


Gunpowder and Red Lipstick

by Nyella



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Aged-Up Frisk (Undertale), Alternate Universe - Mobtale (Undertale), Awesome OC's, Be careful who you bond with..., Because they might end up being killed to death, Bitchy Wingdings, Chara is an absolute douchebag, Child Abuse, Did I mention I'll kill off a character?, Drugs, F/F, F/M, Few phrases in Spanish, Forgot to add..., Frisk is pretty badass, I kill off one of my favorite characters, I suck at this, Is she dead?, Kidnapping, Kidnappings everywhere, M/M, Magic, Magic-infused everything, Mystery, Possessive Sans, Running In Heels, Set-up's, Slow Burn, So if you're into nice-guy chara, Somebody take away my account please, Spoiled Tana, Tags will be added, Timelines, What's the difference even?, Where is Tana?, Which one?????, also death, booze, but it's okay because who even READS the tags anymore, doing the impossible, everything is not what it seems, excuse my mistakes please, kinda smut in chap 13, mafiatale, mysteries everywhere, not-so-innocent Papyrus, or at least attempts at it, probably food too tbh, this is not the story for you, we just don't know, what am I even doing at this point, without falling
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-28
Updated: 2019-09-19
Packaged: 2019-10-18 09:10:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 19
Words: 75,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17578004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nyella/pseuds/Nyella
Summary: When her sister ventures into the most dangerous city on earth to solve a missing-person’s case, Frisk fears that she’s been kidnapped. Dropping everything in her hands to follow her, our protagonist ends up tangled in mafia business and dangerous dealings. As she deals with a determined skeleton, one kidnapping turning into so many more, doubtful monsters, a man who speaks lies as his first language, and the threat of mages returning to bring the world to chaos, it's pretty hard to keep her cool.Sans is the anchor in her storm, he’s everything she’s ever wanted; he's tall, handsome, confident, mysterious and kind. And although there's the small issue of him being part of a mafia, and to top it off, heir to the strongest mob in the world, Frisk can't help but feel like he's exactly what she needs to get away from the life she desperately hates. She wants to escape the claws of her foster family.Set in modern times.





	1. Slipping Groceries and Missing Keys

**Author's Note:**

> Well hello!  
> this is my first fic ever, so I'm excited to see where this will go... English isn't my first language, so I apologize if there's any mistakes. Go ahead and tell me if you like it or not, I'm just starting out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm currently reading this entire thing through for mistakes, because whenever I tend to update on my phone, autocorrect changes my words to a mix of danish and english... It's weird. Anyways, if you're new, then you're lucky! You don't have to read through all of my mistakes.

Almost an entire week has passed. There’s no hint, no leads, no trace of the young woman anywhere. Frisk’s brain feels like it’s about to burst with worry, her feet tapping the floor restlessly, and it’s far from helpful that she can look around the goddamn supermarket and find multiple blonde women, where not _a single one_ is even closely resembling her sister.

“That’ll be 25G, miss,” says the sullen woman behind the register. Frisk gets out her wallet, laying the money on the counter before she picks up her bag of groceries with a heavy sigh.  She scurries hurriedly out of the noisy and people-filled store and puts her wallet back into her purse as she starts thinking about calling her baby sister again. _Not that it would have any effect_ , she annoyedly concludes, _I doubt she’ll pick up after my first 20-something calls_. As she broods over what would be enough to keep that headstrong sister of hers away from calling back, the heels on her brown boots sound against the stones of the sidewalk. The urge to check if Tana has called back is overly appealing, and the bag of groceries is starting to get heavy. To ensure that the groceries don’t slip out of her grip, she lifts the bag up and grips it tighter. She’d hate to lose those, too.

With a fast pace she keeps going down the quiet street with the occasional passing car. The biting spring wind blows through the city, making her long, brown locks caress her face teasingly. The looming houses on both sides of her are tall and big, most of them showing off the wealth of those living inside. One in particular catches Frisk’s eye due to familiarity; it’s made of white-painted bricks and probably one of the biggest on the whole street. There’s a tall and intimidating fence around the property, warning off anyone with the wrong intentions, and it definitely does just that; Frisk hates the very sight of it. In fact, her nose scrunches up every time she so much as thinks of it, and usually she takes a different path to avoid the house. The clever inhabitants of Greenmay City avoid it as much as possible as well, most have already heard the rumors going around that the household has a violent and bloody background. But she – unlike many others – isn’t in danger if she stops to speak with the guard at the front gates. Nobody would cock a gun at her head if she waltzed inside, no alarms would sound if she checked the mailbox… But sometimes safety has a price, she’s learnt.

Neither Frisk nor her sister are strangers to the tough environment in downtown Greenmay, when they were young children they stayed at an orphanage on the outskirts. While Frisk had no hopes of being adopted – she knew that no one in that area had the extra money to pay for such things – and merely wished for some education to help her later in life, Tana was like the other side of a coin. She didn’t care for the few lessons they got taught, at least not until Frisk told her that it would help her get adopted if she was a bright kid. As years passed without any progress on the adopting front, Tana stopped wasting her energy on the pitiful education and instead used it getting into fights with the other children over nonsensical topics as a way to let out her anger. The young girl even picked fights with the matron, succeedingly making both sister’s lives even more miserable than they already were. And as much as Frisk tried to help, nothing really seemed to work. Tana would punch someone, Frisk would try to resolve the situation, Tana would tell Frisk to mind her own business, and so on. Now, the younger sibling wasn’t exactly cut out for fighting, as her height and weight was below average. Frisk spent many evenings tending to bruises and cuts, some more fatal than others. So, when Tana had her last temper tantrum, and hungry flames ate the whole building they once called home, the sisters decided that living on the streets might not be so bad after all. Frisk was 14 then, Tana only 10. And still they both felt two times older.

She doesn’t notice her hand automatically finding way to the scar on her lower back. Ironic how they only got adopted the minute they ran away from the orphanage.

 

* * *

 

**_No new messages_ **

A worried sigh leaves her lips. Maybe she should call Tay again? Or perhaps she should send another text? Normally Frisk tries not to let things get to her. Keeping up the everlasting charade of a strong, put-together big sister would be harder if she did. In the small space, that is the sisters’ livingroom and kitchen, is a black loveseat, with a coffee table in front. Frisk is seated on this very couch with her legs sticking out over the armrest. Before her mind started wandering, she’d been reading an article in a women’s magazine. Now, her eyes find the door leading into a people-empty room, and before she even realizes she has gotten up, Frisk has got her hands on the handle and turns it down. The last time Frisk set foot in this room was many weeks ago, when Tana had asked her to bring her notepad to the café they were meeting at. This is Tana’s sanctuary, just like the other bedroom is Frisk’s, so neither usually go snooping around in the other’s private stuff. Debating whether or not to actually step foot inside, Frisk tugs at some of her hair, the pain creating some clarity. Having made her decision, Frisk takes a hesitant step inside. She’s scared to confirm that no one’s in there, because that means Tana really  _is_  missing. On instinct she calms herself down, releasing her hair, and evening out her breath. She didn’t even realize how unsteady it had been. Observant eyes take in every detail of the abandoned bedroom. The window on the right wall lets in rays of sunshine and lights up the room in a golden light. What a mockery.

The sight makes her want to punch something. She closes the blinds. The headboard on the bed is made of grey metal and the covers are an ashy color. On it lies multiple copies of Tana’s files, which she left in case something happens to her own. Out of sheer curiosity and desperation Frisk walks over and sits down beside them with a soft sound. She opens the first folder before widening her eyes in shock.

_Monster Kid, age 10. Lives in the Snowdin District inside New Ebott with his parents…_

New Ebott. The big metropolis just below Mt. Ebott, populated mostly by monsters and monster supporters. Home to the biggest and most ferocious gangs and mobs in history.

Tana never tells her sister about her cases in detail, unless it’s required by their boss that she helps. Mostly she'll just tell what type of case it is; kidnapping, stalking, robbery or something of the likes. This time is no different, Frisk only knows that it’s about a kidnapping. In the folder is a picture of a kid, who is most likely who Tana’s looking for. But that isn’t what causes Frisk’s panic – no – her state is caused by its appearance.

Just as its name insinuates, the missing child is a monster; a deeply hated species for some dangerous people in New Ebott. If Tana truly took on a case involving a monster in mob central, then she might be in even bigger danger than Frisk first believed. She would get no help all the way out there. In her mind dark thoughts and gruesome images start forming. Frisk’s last family all alone. A mobster raping a blonde girl. Tana murdered in a-

_Stop! Dammit Frisk, this isn’t helping her situation, or yours, for that matter!_

Her body filling with a burst of energy, she jumps up and runs around the house packing necessities. As her heart beats right out of her chest, her brain works on overtime. What is she going to need? How much money can she spare on this trip? Does she even have enough to go that far away from home? _Is it_ even wise to leave home? The questions just keep on coming, never stopping, never ceasing. It feels as if hammers and knuckles took turns hitting her head, it pounds concurrently with her heart. After fighting to slip out of her comfortable sweater dress, she steps into a pair of black trousers and puts on a white shirt with a matching jacket. Chaos ensues in the living room as she panicks around trying to find her goddamn keys. Instead, the case folders pops into her mind – reminding her to put them in the suitcase. On her way to the bedroom she cringes in pain, as she steps on something sharp. Her keys.

 

* * *

 

Frisk hollers cab after cab, but nobody seems to want to drive her two hours north, just so she can get to New Ebott. A panic starts to spread with every heartbeat and her breathing gets unwillingly faster. Her search for a cab has taken her into the poorest part of the town.

 _What if I never get a cab? There’re no trains or busses going into Ebott. If I don’t find anyone brave enough to get me into the most dangerous city on earth, then how the hell am I gonna find Tana? Speaking of which, how did_ she  _even get outta here? I doubt uncle let her take the pla-_

Her thoughts are interrupted when a car pulls up beside her.

“Kiddo, can’t help but notice you’re lookin’ a bit lost here.”

Frisk turns around to face the voice. A man is sitting inside the rusty car, and she sends him a scrutinizing gaze and crosses her arm defensively. He’s up in the years, got a moustache, and his clothes are dirty and well-worn. His eyes are warm but calculating, and he eyes her up and down. Something about him seems familiar, although she can’t quite point out what it is. Maybe he just looks like one of the many psychopaths and rapists that live downtown. The air fills with the smell of gas and sweat. She can always just get in his car, rapist or not, and if he tries anything her gun isn’t far away. Either way she’s very desperate, and it goes against her moral code to hijack cars of nice people. But if he really is a nice guy then he’ll take her where she wants, and if he isn’t… Well, then there’s no harm in taking over his car, is there?

They exchange thoughtful looks, and Frisk sighs in despair. She masks her face into a despairing look, trying to gain the strangers sympathy.

“Please… I just need to go to this inn in a place called Snowdin, but nobody wants to take me.” There’s something about this man that makes her doubt her previous assumptions about shady dealings. Somehow, he seems kind and forthcoming.

_But don’t all psychopaths seem that way at first?_

 Then, an image of him holding a little girl tightly crosses her mind.

“Wait – I  _know_ you!” She exclaims suddenly and her eyes widen in excitement. A faint smile blossoms on her face as she realizes; he owes her a debt, and it’ll be paid by driving her to her sister. _So that’s why he didn’t seem so bad! I’ve met him before._

“Oh right! Aren’t you the one that brought my little girl back safely to me?” He asks, just as surprised as Frisk feels.

“Yeah that girl – Kimberly, right? I can’t believe she just ran away from home like that.”

The man, whose name escapes her mind, scratches the back of his head and looks down.

“We had a pretty harsh argument, and you know kids; they think they can just run away from their responsibility. Thank you so much again for bringing her back, though.”

“Yeah, no problem. I got worried when I saw those guys surrounding her, looking at her like she was prey. I couldn’t stand around doing nothing while they threatened a young girl.” Kimberly had reminded her of Tana, but even if she hadn’t, Frisk would’ve dropped everything to help a young kid from getting harassed.

“I’m indebted to you, aren’t I? Let me drive you to that inn you were talking about – to pay you back for your help.”

“I can’t say no to that offer, let me just put my suitcase in the back!” chirps Frisk, and, excitedly, she opens the door to the backseat and places her heavy luggage inside. By exploiting his kindness, Frisk decides to wait with telling him exactly where Snowdin Inn is stationed. A few moments later she’s seated in the front, with her phone in her lap.

“Take the main road to the north,” She points to that direction and sends him a questioning look as if to ask if he got it. He turns to meet it and gives her an assuring smile.

“You know it.”

Just like that, they find themselves on the main road towards New Ebott, without the chauffeur’s knowing. She shoots a gaze back to the city behind her and decides that now is as good a time as ever to drop the bomb.

“So, uh… that inn, right? It’s, uhm… it’s kinda situated in New Ebott…”

“Yes, I’m aware, I actually drove a gal there a week ago,” he shakes his head, “why in the world two respectable women like you are traveling to that scum of a city is beyond me, but I’m not askin’ questions.”

“Hold on – you said you drove another person into New Ebott, right? Did she have shoulder-length blonde hair, brown eyes, about yay-high,” Frisk puts a flat hand a bit above her head, “and has a fit-for-fight attitude?”

“Yeah, you know her?” He asks with a genuine curiosity.

“She’s my younger sister.”

“You doin’ a family trip to your sure death then?” A deep, sarcastic laugh escapes his lips, making cold sweat crawl on Frisk’s skin.

“Hopefully not, I’m trying to get to her before anyone dangerous does. If anything happens to her I don’t know what I’ll do, we take turns looking out for each other,” her tone turns worried again, but this time it’s not on her own volition, “Tay has a knack for getting herself into trouble, and if I’m not around to solve it who knows what will happen to her?”

“I don’t know if this is useful or not, but she talked about this bar – Grillby’s – where she had to be dropped off.” A few moments pass and Frisk waits impatiently for him to continue. When he doesn’t, she figures she better keep the conversation going.

“Grillby’s, huh? Which district is it in?”

“It’s also in Snowdin, but I’ve heard it’s a monsters-only place. The mafia in that district is pretty hardcore, so even though you definitely can handle yourself, I wouldn’t really recommend going in there.” This earns a confident smile from his female company.

“Don’t you worry, I wouldn’t lose any sleep over it. I saved your daughter, remember?”

 

* * *

 

 **_Frisk, 5:37 pm:_ ** _I’ll be out of town for a while. Cover for me at work please._

 **_Larry, 5:45 pm:_ ** _so does that mean u will b owing me that date then ;)_

 **_Frisk 6:00 pm:_ ** _No it doesn’t, and you should really move on._

 **_Larry 6:02 pm:_ ** _if you say so… anyway youll still owe me a favor_

 **_Frisk 6:17 pm:_ ** _Fine, I won’t tell the boss that you’ve been flirting with me since we met. How about that?_

 ** _Larry, 6:19 pm:_**  …

 **_Larry, 6:19 pm:_ ** _your really playing hard to get_

 **_Frisk, 6:34 pm:_ ** _Do I even bother to correct your grammar?_

 **_Larry, 6:35 pm:_ ** _i wouldnt mind_

A laugh sounds from beside her.

“Someone bothering ya?” Frisk sighs and drives a hand through her chocolate hair.

“I have a coworker called Larry… Asked him to cover for me at work, but he expects me to date him when I get back.”

“Larry, huh? Don’t like him or something?”

“No, no, he’s a decent guy, but I don’t like him the way he likes me. I probably should’ve told my boss instead, could’ve saved myself a real headache.” Except there's no way her boss will ever hear of this.

Done in every possible way with Larry’s bad flirting attempts and his awful spelling, Frisk decides that a nap is in place. She’s got an hour to kill, so she makes herself comfortable in the worn-out car seat. Her eyes – actively searching for something to watch – falls upon the view outside the car window. The car’s engine hums. Her hometown and all of its citizens behind her for the first time ever, Frisk wonders why she never left before now, she’s not even that far from home but it’s oddly freeing. She’s looking at the passing bits of nature, colored orange and yellow by the setting sun. So many trees, so many flowers, so many beautiful things she never thought twice about. They all look different now, a bit wilder perhaps. The cab sends comforting vibrations through her body, making her sleepy. A content smile spreads on her face, and for a moment the world outside disappears as her face reflects in the window. Her features aren’t a bad sight at all; with her hair pulled together under the fedora you can better see her elegant cheekbones, the peach-colored mouth of hers and her intellectual, brown eyes. Said eyes hasn’t lost their sharpness, but they’re certainly becoming harder to keep open. She turns around in the soft car seat and looks at the driver.

“Wake me up when we get there, okay?” She asks him accompanied by a tired look. The well-aged man keeps his eyes on the seemingly never-ending road, but nevertheless still answers with a gentle voice, “Sure.” It may just be the stress getting to her, but Frisk can swear she saw the flicker of a fatherly smile on his face. Soon enough sleep finds its way to her, and her breathing becomes deep and relaxed. The last comfortable sleep she’ll have in some time.

 

* * *

 

A hand shakes her awake with a surprising gentleness.

“’Kay kid we’re here. The ‘Snowdin Inn’.” Frisk sits herself straight, while trying to rub the sleep out of her eyes. Her vision is a bit blurry, but it helps to blink. It’s totally dark outside.

“Promise me you’ll find your sister and get home safely, alright?” he says seriously, and proceeds to put a heavy hand on her shoulder.

“Tana’s a great girl, just like yourself, so take care. This city is dangerous, and you better get a gun real’ quick if you plan to stay.” Once again he gives Frisk that heart-warming fatherly look, and she realizes she must remind him of his daughter. She chuckles before answering.

“Who says I haven’t got one already?” She says with a wink of her eye. She opens the car door and steps out, purse on her shoulder. She gets out her luggage and looks up on a sign that reads ‘Snowd **INN** ’.

_What a creative name._

“Well, I’ll be leaving you so I can head home to my children,” says the man in the car. Frisk sends him a smile and thanks him for driving her. When he has driven off she walks over to the wooden door, but before she can reach out a hand to open it, she turns around. The light from the street lamp gives a yellow tint to everything.

 _This place is seriously huge!_ Is the first thought to make way to her mind. Honestly, it’s well-deserved because all around her are tall buildings and skyscrapers, all of them competing over who are closest to the sky. They light up with lights from late working offices and electronic advertisement signs. The noise from cars, people and monsters reaches her ears, and, somehow, even though this is supposed to be the capital of ferociousness, she can’t help but think it’s beautiful.

“Wow…” she says, all out of breath.


	2. A Skeleton, a Fish and a Human Walk Into a Bar...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a tad bit longer than the first, but I just wanted to introduce Sans and Undyne before ending the chapter.  
> Enjoy ^_^

Frisk doesn’t have high expectations when she steps inside the inn. The online prices show it to be the cheapest place in all of New Ebott – maybe except for the Ruins – that money can buy. Which is exactly why she chose this spot to be her base: it’s the last place anyone would look for her.

While the floor is decorated with a dirty, yellow carpet that fills the entire room, the tapestry is orange with matching paneling. The lobby itself isn't very big, just about 10 by 10 feet, with an old couch to her right. Above it is an abstract painting, which gives the room a bit of charm, but the only light source in the room is the floor lamp – which really needs a new light bulb – in the far corner to the right. In the other corner is a staircase going up to the rooms. If it’s just her being crazy, she doesn’t know, but she could swear that the faint incense coming from the room is mold.

_Wow Frisky, really know how to pick ‘em huh? Real classy…_

“Welcome to Snowdin Inn, what can I do you for?” a light brown bunny monster asks. She’s currently turned her back on Frisk and is writing down on a piece of paper. Ripped out of her observation, Frisk’s gaze falls upon the lady behind an L shaped wooden counter.  _She’s so damn tall,_ is her first thought when looking up at the back of her head, not that it’s unusual for monsters to be extremely taller than humans. Almost as if she can feel Frisk’s gaze, she turns around with a smile.

“Oh, sweetheart, you can do me if you ask nicely,” Frisk jokingly flirts, making sure to send a wink her way along with a grin for charm. Behind the counter a scowl takes the smile’s place on Bunny-Lady’s face. Frisk takes two steps forward, making sure to end up just in front of the counter, and puts her arms upon it. The monster rolls her eyes and crosses her arms in counteract.

 “You’ve got a lot of nerve showing up here and mocking me, human, this is _my_ turf,” she sneers, showing her perfectly shaped teeth while doing so. The monster is dressed plainly with a yellow top and green skirt with golden patterning, both of which has seen better days. A nametag above her right chest spells ‘ _ERICA_ ’ with big, fat letters. Concluding that this rabbit most likely is short-tempered, Frisk decides to turn down the flirting to a zero.

“Is that a human?” A squeaky voice joins in on the conversation and Frisk has to suppress the urge to tilt her head questioningly. She quickly turns her head towards where she thinks the source came from but can't find anyone.  
“Wait, where did that come from? And don’t worry, I'm not dangerous or anything,” Frisk reassures, still searching for the squeaky voice. She leans over the counter, revealing a very small bunny clutching the green skirt. In opposition to its mother, its fur is a snowy white, but well-kept and totally spotless.

_I envy your ability to stay clean. Personally, I can’t keep anything white for long without dirtying it._

She gasps in surprise when a paw pushes her back from the counter with a shocking amount of strength. “Stay  _away_  from my son!”

“Woah, will you _please_ watch the suit! I just ironed it today,” to emphasize it, she gestures to her lovely pantsuit, “Besides it’s not like I'm a bomb about to go off or anything, I just need a room to stay in for a couple of days.”

Erica’s ears turn red in… anger? Most likely. The kid sends a doubtful look Frisk’s way and hides behind his mom.

_Great I haven’t even been here for 10 minutes, and I've already pissed off my first monster._

Frisk sighs. It looks like she’ll have to do better than that if she plans on getting a room here.

“Let’s start over, okay?” an apologetic look covers her face while she slowly offers a tanned hand in greeting, “Name’s Frisk.”

“That’s a weird name, and I don’t care. Get out of here.” The inn-keeper doesn’t move a muscle, except for tapping her paw restlessly on the counter.

“Look, I really need to stay here. I can’t afford anything else, and honestly this place is close to everything, including Grillby’s.”

“Grillby’s? And why does that even matter? You’re not allowed there, just like you aren’t allowed here.” The rabbit puffs in the same way kindergarten kids would say ‘ _haha I can go to Disneyland, and you can’t_ ’. The human’s cheeks redden in part embarrassment and anger, but if the Erica cares it doesn’t show on her face.

“Listen up, bunny. I’m gonna stay no matter what you do, so the choice is yours: do I pay for one of your rooms or do I force you to give me one? And, you know, the police wouldn’t even care with this city’s high rate of crime if something were to happen to this small establishment.”  

She thinks it over for a while with a surly look. Frisk knows that this monster must be afraid of humans, and especially because of the gangs down in the Ruins. For all this monster knows, she could be a mobster in disguise planning to murder bunny jr. in his sleep or a mole scouring for the tiniest bit of information to use in bringing down the local mafia.

“Don’t be scared that I’m murderous or psychotic, I’m actually a nice person, okay? And, look, I promise that I’m staying for a good reason, and that I’ll be a civil guest while I’m staying. It’s just that my sister is-“

_Stop._

“Uhm…”

_Don’t go spouting out all of your secrets to strangers._

“You see-“

_She doesn’t need to know. Just get rid of her and take a room with force._

She coughs to gather a moment where she can make a decision, confusedly in-between telling the monster about her missing sister or knocking the bunny out cold.

_If I do this the Vincent way, I really am no better than them. I can’t just assume that this woman won’t understand me, I have to stay true to myself even if it means letting out a secret or two. She doesn’t look that dangerous to me._

_Alright. Then it’s settled._

“My sister Tana was investigating a case involving a missing kid and now she’s missing as well. I came all this way to find her, and I desperately need a decent place to stay while I snoop around, so please, _please_ , just rethink your decision. I don’t have enough money on me to go somewhere fancy.” _And I have a feeling you know a thing or two about being broke_ , she silently adds in her mind.

“Hmph, I can hardly see how that concerns _me_. I’m calling the cops now!” The eyes of the monster are ice cold as she marches over to an old phone with the cable stuck into the wall. Her mind is already made up, Frisk realizes, nothing in her power can make that monster change her mind. It almost breaks her spirits as she watches how racism has affected these people. But then something plays in her favor: Erica probably doesn’t see her as much of a threat if she’s willing to turn her back to Frisk, as she’s doing currently. It wouldn’t be hard to take out her gun, or use something hard to knock out the bunny, but Frisk fights against the impulse. It isn’t hers, it was brought upon her by force long ago, she tells herself, and it eases the urge a bit. There must be something she can do to convince the woman to let her stay, but she’s thoroughly left of ideas. Running out of the door with her suitcase sounds better and better, but then the small child peeks over the counter with glassy eyes and a sniffling nose.

“M’ sorry ‘bout your sister, human. M’ aunty Eerina isn’t here, too.” He whispers with care, painfully aware of Frisk’s every move. When she doesn’t speak nor react he continues with uncertainty, almost as if he’s expecting his mother to scold him for saying. “Don’t tell anyone, but- but I think Allan Soe did it… At least that’s what Mrs. Serivife said.”

“Aunty Eerina, you say?” he nods, “And who is this Allan?”

“Dunno… Ask Mrs. Serivife,” he helpfully adds with a cocked head and scrutinizing eyes.

“I will. Where does she live, do you know that?” He makes a short ‘ _mmm’_ sound, signaling that those were the only information he had. She can hear Erica talking to the police in the background, and she decides that if she’s going to do something it has to be _now_. As Frisk nimbly jumps over the counter and snatches the phone out of the bunny’s grip, the kid almost screams in terror.

“Everything is under control officer, it was just a false alarm.” Frisk assures, and the man’s voice saying, “ _Ma’am, are you sure? You sounded really worried-“_ gets cut off when she hangs up the phone with a firm gesture. Erica looks both mad and terrified that someone would cross the unspoken line that the counter represents, but before she can comment on it Frisk speaks up.

“Who’s Eerina?”

“That’s _none_ of your business, human!”

“Did she end up like Monster Kid? Did Allan Soe-“ _Wait I’ve heard that name before,_ “kidnap her, just like he kidnapped my sister?”

“So what if he did? It doesn’t concern you at all!”

“Not at the start, no, but then my sister got involved, and that means I got involved too. I’m in on this case whether you like it or not, so you better start cooperating instead of making my life difficult, or else I’m never gonna find Tana _or_ Eerina. I’m guessing you want her back right? Well, unless you help me, I won’t help you.”

The room is quiet for some time. The wind blows outside on the lonely streets, the cars rev as they pass by. Erica peeks at her son, looking for some kind of clarity that he might give her. He nods. As much as this human scares him, he wants his aunt back more. Erica’s skirt brushes against Frisk’s hip as she picks up her kid protectively.

“You promise to look for Eerina?”

“Pinky promise!” Frisk reassures, holding out her pinky in dead-seriousness. Erica cocks her head in confusion, but locks fingers with her nonetheless.

“Is this a form of magical binding so that you can’t go back on the promise?” She asks in a curious voice. Frisk doesn’t have the heart to explain to her that most humans aren’t magical anymore.

“Uhm… Something like that, yeah. I use it with my sister all the time, and we’ve never let each other down. I won’t let you down either.”

Despite their differences, Frisk can’t help but like Erica. She’s been around empowered individuals for so long that scared and careful people can occasionally get on her nerves. This monster is far from that type, Frisk’s already found, and the bunny’s radiance of confidence is highly likeable. Maybe this trip won’t be good for only finding Tana. Maybe she might end up making new friends. And maybe, _just_ maybe, she might find a new family here in New Ebott.

 

* * *

 

 _I swear, if Tana isn’t at this bar tonight I might end up losing my mind,_ Frisk sighs internally. Room 04 is pretty basic. Charmingly basic. The rectangular entrance goes out into a bigger room with a dusty yellow carpet. The tapestry and paneling are the same as downstairs, but the brown welcoming mat with three hearts on turns the space much friendlier than the atmosphere in the lobby. The wall opposite of the door has a grey painting of Mount Ebott, and it certainly stands out from the bright room. There’s also a red bed, a table for the guest’s belongings, a floor lamp like the one downstairs and a bedside table with a guest book. To the left is another wooden door, probably leading to the bathroom. All in all; comfy, modest and nice. There’s a hard  _thump_  when she puts her heavy luggage on the table, but not without some struggle to lift it up first. Taking out the folders and sitting down on the bed, the young woman starts looking through the case files yet again.

_Frisk, you read them in the car._

_And after I've read them again, I'll have read them_ three _times._

_You know, you're wasting time that you should be using to get ready to leave for the bar._

The cheap watch on her arm comes into sight when she pulls up her sleeve. When she realizes that it’s already near 8 o’clock, she hurriedly packs away the files so she can start freshening up. Not even 15 minutes later she’s in the bathroom, and, as it turns out, red really is Frisk’s color. The red, elegant, strapless dress with a golden pattern, she’s wearing goes well with the pair of black heels she’s put aside to add a few inches to her short height. Now, normally this puts her in a good mood, but it turns out that monsters don’t have to use toilets at all. Not ever. Frisk tugs violently at her own hair, an old habit that dies hard, as she longs for her own apartment. _This is just great,_ she thinks, _Out of all of the inns and hotels I pick the one without human facilities. I bet Erica is laughing her ass off at this._ She takes in a deep breath and decides to do her makeup to distract herself from the fact that she really has to pee. It’s seriously not working though. It's almost as if trying not to think about it only makes it worse.  As she scolds everyone and everything for ever existing and leading up to this point where she’s missing what she needs most, she scours the bathroom again to make sure that the toilet isn’t just hidden behind a screen or something. Besides the vanity and mirror, the only other thing in there is a tub. _So this is it then_ , she realizes, _I have to waste time looking for somewhere to pee. See, this is why you always go before you leave!_

Although her face isn't favored by the yellow lighting the young woman makes do with it anyway. She struggles with going through her routine of deep red lipstick, a black liner, some mascara, and bit of rouge, since she’s scared it’ll turn out hideous or uneven, but in the end it isn’t the makeup that does her dirty. It’s her tangled and uncooperative locks of hair that makes her life miserable as she wonders how she could disarm multiple gangsters but not being able to create a messy bun. Threats of cutting it all off if it doesn’t do as she wants it to go on repeat until she gives up at the sight of all the knots and tangles. How could that even happen in the span of 5 minutes? Doesn’t matter, she decides as she whimpers in defeat, all she wants to do right now is tear it off her head.

“I’ve had it up to here with pointless problems! I thought the hardest thing should be finding Tana, but it turns out the world just hates making things easy for me, even the small stuff! First, it’s the room complications, then it’s the damn toilet, then the lighting is horrible, and _now_ my hair is a mess. And on top of it all, I’ve turned so lonely that I have to speak with myself.” Why is everything fighting against her? And, honestly, why does the small problems bother her so much that she wants to cry? Is the world sending her signs that this was a horrible idea, because it sure feels like it to her right now, or is it just testing her strength?

_Pathetic._

It was hopeless to think she could do this alone, without Tana or Caleb, or the rest of the team, or even her foster family. She won’t ever make it alone in the world, will she? She’s always had someone by her side, even back when the sisters were kids. With Tana gone Angela will be furious, Thomas is going to abandon her, and Vincent might force her on more assignments to prove herself again. Just the thought of Vince and Angela sends an unpleasant chill down her spine.

_If I don’t pull myself together and get off my ass I’m going to miss my opportunity to find Tana and once and for all leave Greenmay City. This may be our only chance at a peaceful life._

“Alright, hair, you'll do as I say whether you like it or not.” a determined hand grabs the plastic brush, “Like I'll let my hair win over me.”

 

* * *

 

The darkness coats all corners, crooks and most of the sidewalk. Except for the faint sounds of a few late driving cars, the spring breeze combing through the streets and a woman in red walking with a  _click-clack_  from her heels meeting the ground, the Snowdin district is completely silent. All smart humans stay inside at this time of night; they’ve lived in the city long enough to know that monsters rule once darkness takes over the city. There are no human gangs hanging out in the Snowdin district anymore either, they’ve all learnt their lesson the hard way and cleverly decided it’d be best to keep to the ‘humans only’ part of New Ebott; the Ruins.  
True to its name, the Ruins district is completely made out of old buildings, factories and shops, with most of the inhabitants living there poor and without jobs. As a consequence of the unemployment many look to illegal activities – such as drug dealing, smuggling magic-infused booze, prostitution, or, if they’re really desperate, joining the human mob – just to get by in the harsh environment.

Rumors of the city’s amountless gangs are spread worldwide, making New Ebott infamous for its crime rate, but in reality one can roughly say there are only two that count: the Human Mob and the Monster Mob.

The Monster Mob is divided into three big sections, each one ruling the three biggest districts. The Onion in Waterfall, the Gasters in Snowdin, and the Dreemurrs in Hotland. Mostly the Onion didn’t care for anything else than touching, eating and killing, so unless business involved at least one of the three you wouldn’t catch the teardrop formed Godfather lifting even a metaphorical finger. Besides, the mob in Waterfall didn’t really go anywhere else, not even to roughen up the racist humans in the Ruins. The Gasters and Dreemurrs were the main threat to the Human Mob. Despite technically being two individual mafias, they worked together more times than not, especially because drastic times needed drastic measures.

The Human Mob, or more frequently known as Los Amparadores or The Alonsos, was created by the most feared human in the city, right after the monsters were freed from under Mount Ebott, 10 years ago. He banded together with the local gangs to fight off the monsters, an action encouraged by racism and the founder’s hate for a foreign race. The founder’s name? Emmanuel Alonso. His family traveled from Spain a couple decades ago, when he was in his late 20’s. Despite having only spent little time in Ebott, he gained a reputation of being unbeatable, and a cold-blooded murderer, fast. Needless to say, he gained respect just as quickly, and when he demanded to create one big gang, later named Los Amparadores, nobody complained or disagreed with him. The ‘gang’ turned into a full-on mob dealing with weapons, booze and drugs 5 years later – because money became a big issue – although its main focus stayed on the monsters.

But even though Emmanuel did all he could to prepare an attack at the headquarters of the Dreemurrs he failed miserably. His intelligence was far superior, no doubt about that, but he hadn’t fully understood the length of the monsters’ strength in magic. Most of his men had never even seen magic, not to say fighting it, and so when they began the attack they didn’t stand a chance. Their guns couldn’t compete against magical spears, sharp bones, fireballs, laser beams or the spiders' synchronized dance, so they had to retreat to the worst part of town to stay alive. That day at the square – which later on became known as MTT Square – Don Alonso lost all of his territory. The only possible solution he saw to regain power was building a new part of town up from scratch, a place where no monster wanted to live.

It worked. The Ruins is turned from a dump into a slightly more reasonable place with nicer neighborhoods. And Frisk is aware of all of this: Don Alonso, the fight at MTT Square, the Ruins. What she didn’t already know from her work and the rumors travelling from mouth to mouth, Tana’s files had informed her of, and Frisk has made it her mission to memorize all the important names. Alonso, Dreemurr, Gaster. Emmanuel, Asgore, Wing Dings. Sadly, there aren’t any pictures except for the one of Monster Kid, which makes her situation a whole lot more difficult. It would be easier if Frisk could identify any of the higher-ups in the mafias to avoid any unnecessary complications, what if she accidentally made contact with someone she should steer clear of? Frisk shakes her head at herself. She’s thinking too much again.

The darkened streets make it hard to navigate a city she’s no inside knowledge of whatsoever, but the paper with instructions that Erica wrote her helps massively. Taking a left turn down an alleyway, Frisk starts to think about how she should act when she arrives. An option could always be flirting and charming the patrons of the bar, she’s even rehearsed flirting techniques for the better part of her stay in New Ebott. Some she knows from Tana, others from her foster mom, and she even learned a few from Larry. (Except that those were how _not_ to flirt.) A different option could be listening in on conversations, or asking the bartender. Maybe she could just use all of them?

There’s no doubt in her mind when she reaches Grillby’s. The giant neon sign saying ‘ _Grillby’s_ ’ above the entrance pretty much says it all. The district's silence is slowly fading when she hears the faint singing and yelling coming from in front of her. It turns a lot louder the moment she goes inside, and the noise helps a bit on the loneliness that has been gnawing away at her the entire day. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to enjoy herself tonight, as long as she remembers why she’s here. The thought lifts a stone from her stomach.

If she really wanted to go with option ‘listening in on conversations’, the disappointment would be great. To do so she’d have to be invisible, and the human realizes just how impossible that is for her to do. As if being a human in a monster bar isn’t enough, her dress is definitely not helping her situation at all, unless she goes with option ‘seduce the douche’. _Yeah_ , she concludes, _that’s probably the only option that’s gonna work now._ The number of eyes on her are turning close to all in the room, some gaze at her with curiosity or appreciation for her lowcut dress, but most lift eyebrows or sneer in warning. She doesn’t belong here. At the sight of all the monsters gathered in such a close confinement, she's quite taken aback, despite herself. An instinct she got long ago makes her put up a confident façade as to not look like fresh prey. This place is filled with dangerous and influential people, she guesses. There’s a group of dogs, a monster made of… teeth? ... a really ugly fish, and so many more, that Frisk decides she’ll have to look at them when she’s gotten a drink. Her gaze slides over all of the occupied tables to look for a place to sit, but it’s too crowded in there, probably because it’s a Saturday night with live music.

_Oh, there’s a secluded booth in the corner. Perfect place to watch people for a while, figuring out who to talk to. I wonder why nobody saw it before me, though._

Before sitting down, she struts over to the bar for a much-needed drink. As everyone parts around her like she’s an alien, there’s no need to push through the mass of patrons. Their hungry, wondering and concise stares follow her as ferocious predators. Despite the uneasiness spreading through her she forces a steel-like indifference to take its place, so it doesn’t affect her too much. The thought of having fun and relaxing isn’t easy to fulfill in reality, but focusing on how good she must look in her dress helps. The piece is cut in the side, up to her upper thigh, and she exposes a bit of it every time she takes a step towards the bar. None of the chairs are empty, so she just orders her drink from the figure behind the bar and waits patiently while standing up. Her eyes attentively follow the bartender in admiration. He’s a blue fire monster wearing a white shirt and black pants with suspenders, and her loneliness has to be stopped before she’ll grab his red tie and kiss him. The monster somehow has a scar over the right eye, in contrary to most flames, hidden behind a pair of square glasses. Moving swiftly and with ease, it isn’t hard to see that he knows where everything is without even giving it a second glance. He pours some yellow liquid into a glass and puts a flower on the edge. Frisk knows about that type of flower before from Tana; it’s a buttercup and it's poisonous to the point of death. Once she had a case where a man was poisoned using those, but with the amount it takes to kill someone with them, it’s a mystery why the killer didn’t just use a more potent poison.

The fire monster sets down the drink in front of her and – even though the place is packed and many want to order new drinks – he expectantly waits for her to taste it, hands on his hips. She lifts up the ornate glass and inspects it curiously while being impressed over his ability to not burn his clothes or anything near him. She ordered something new and exotic, something called a Blooming Sunshine, and Frisk approves of the appearance of it, if not for the taste. Expecting either pineapple, lemon, or perhaps orange, she’s a bit confused at the taste when she takes a sip.

_IIt tastes like strawberries and blueberries? ...What an interesting twist._

Just when she opens her mouth to tell the bartender how good it tastes, she feels  _it_. Sexual innuendo not intended. Her surprise must be written all over her face, because he laughs softly in his caramel voice.

“The magic kick in yet?” He asks in between laughs, causing Frisk to smile back at him. Even though she isn’t aware of it yet, the bartender rarely speaks.

“This feeling - it's magic? Actual magic?” He nods, satisfied with her reaction. Her thoughts go to all the rich and snobby people back in Greenmay City who would be disgusted by the pure idea of drinking magic-induced alcohol, but Frisk doesn't mind drinking illegal alcohol in an establishment such as this. The only one who can get in trouble is the one selling it, and not many dares to charge a monster from New Ebott with illegal alcohol possession. It's hard to find anything here that hasn't got a slight touch of magic in it. Besides: most of the cops are crooked here, anyway.

“It’s 10 times better than anything I've ever tried! Okay, I’ve got to try more of your drinks at some point if they’re all this good.” The monster nods. “Let me get my purse out-” just as she reaches for her wallet, he puts her to a halt.

“On the house.” He interrupts, flames crackling mysteriously. Frisk gapes as she watches him walk over to another patron and doesn’t even notice everybody staring at her in awe. After that, most of the hostile gazes disappear.

_Nice guy._

Drink in hand, she goes over to the empty booth she from earlier and sits down on the leather seat. Doing her people-watching, she’s fast to establish that people look as much at her as she looks at them. Many of the monsters whisper to each other and the few remaining hostile people even laugh. Frisk can't point out anything about her appearance that would make her a laughingstock, so she decides to ignore it. And the blood rushing to her cheeks in embarrassment.  
She’s savoring her fruity drink when somebody sits down in front of her with clumsy movements. It’s a hippo with green hair, sunglasses, and a black tracksuit with grey stripes. He’s smiling like he just understood the punchline of a joke or maybe it’s the smile of somebody who knows they can win a bet they just made.

_Jerk._

“‘Sup toots? I have ta say, ya got guts. Can’t help but notice ya lookin’ outta place in 'ere.” He leans over the table and Frisk can smell the strong scent of alcohol in his breath. _Either he’s drunk as hell or just plain stupid,_ she muses as she leans back, playing hard to get with a teasing glint in her eye. So, this is how he wants to play?  _Well by all means_ , she inwardly chuckles,  _let's play Casanova_.

“Out of place? What, you don’t get human women in here often or something? I find that hard to believe, you all seem so welcoming.” She jokes.

“I have ta admit that we’ve only seen two humans ‘ere in da last week, an’ that’s wit’ ya included. I guess they jus’ don’t got da same guts as ya do, or da same pretty face.”

_Two humans in one week. Me and Tana._

Frisk’s attention is perked. She’ll have to be absolutely sure that it was Tana, but it’s going to be hard to get information without sounding suspicious. She really hopes that this dude is as drunk as she thinks.

“I bet you told that other human the same thing… You’re such a charmer.” She baits, twirling her hair around a finger.

“I would never! Ya look so much prettier than ‘er.”

“Oh, do I? Then what did she look like?” Frisk asks curiously, batting eyelashes at the hippo. Besides curving a weird brow in thought, he doesn't show any suspicion.

“Ya see, she was a blonde,”

“Ugh, I _hate_ blondes!”

“Yea, I  _know_  right? An’ her height was jus’ embarrassing, ya know, and she wore this stiff suit of sum kind, real stuck-up brat. _And_ , can ya imagine, she was meeting Mr. Baklavas of all people! Man that woman was jus’ the most boring human I’ve ever seen.” The way he says Baklavas leads her to believe she should know who he is, so she opens her mouth and furrows her brows in fake disbelief. She doesn’t who this Baklavas is.

“Seriously? Him out of _everyone_?”

He leans back, satisfied with himself, and Frisk places her dainty hand above his on the table. Her foot finds his leg and she starts stroking it.

“He was probably jus’ trying ta sell ‘is bookstore down at da border, dontcha think? Maybe da humans are on his ass again.”

“Yeah, maybe they are.”

The monster has given Frisk enough information to figure out where to go next, but just as she's about to ask him to dance, the door opens. As if on cue everyone in the room either tries to make themselves small, or greets the newcomers.

“FUHUHU! I’m telling you he was terrified!” Frisk turns around to see who just came in and hears her potential dance partner scurry away. Apparently, he’s one of the first types.

"can't believe he thought we'd fall fer it. everythin’ ‘bout 'm seemed  _fishy_.”

A skeleton and a fish walks into the bar.

 _Sounds like the beginning of a bad joke_ , Frisk notes, while looking closer at the newcomers. The first one with the dorky laugh is a fish lady. She’s got bright red hair pulled up in a ponytail, and dark blue scales and fins. Her one and only eye has a yellow sclera, but an eyepatch covers her other. She’s smiling broadly, and by doing so allows everyone to look at her yellow, giant and horrifyingly sharp teeth. Well-defined muscles and her total of 7’5 feet don't help her look harmless either. The white pinstripe suit and the few open buttons on her shirt make her look both professional and sexy at the same time. The shorter skeleton beside her looks strong as well, but not quite as scary. His unmistakable charm makes up for his otherwise tough exterior.

_He's probably the type who acts nice to get everybody around him to relax, and then when they forget to stay on alert, he strikes._

He’s a half dozen inches shorter than Ms. Fish-Lady, but his suit is goddamn impressive. It's a darker blue than his companion’s scales, and the vest is black and pinstriped. The tie matches the suit, strung around the collar of a white shirt. His face is partly hidden by a fedora, twin to the jacket and pants based on color. His voice is low and sexy, and Frisk instantly turns around when they get eye contact over the back of her seat. The  _clack_  of his expensive dress shoes sounds against the floor, almost suffocated by the noisy bar.

_Can my heart beat any faster? He's not coming over here anyway, just act normal, Frisk. Maybe he didn’t see you look._

Her drink is almost finished but she pretends to drink it anyway, suddenly hit by a wave of fear and arousal. A really weird combination, actually, but she doesn’t hate it. Maybe she shouldn't kink-shame Larry as much, she concludes while the sound of his heavy steps get closer and closer to her.

_Oh god please don't, I don't need more trouble._

Two big figures sit across from her, casting long shadows over her panicking form. _These monsters definitely aren't as harmless as the hippo guy, that's for sure,_ she worriedly thinks, desperately wishing that there was pictures in Tana’s files. How is she going to know if these two are mobsters or just gangsters?

“heya, sweetheart. whatcha doin’ 'n our booth?”

When the skeleton shifts a bit in his seat, he reveals a gun strapped to his hip. A shiver runs down her spine when she looks up on his fedora once again, just to confirm what she hoped wasn’t true.

_Just as I thought, the ribbon's purple. These monsters…_

Her calm facade never once falters. What did she say just before? Oh yes. It's time to play a game. As she did with the hippo, she flutters her eyelashes.

“Oh, I don't know hot stuff, guess I just got lost in your eyes on the way.”

His eye sockets glint mischievously at that, but Frisk doesn’t find it funny at all. She hides a hand under the table, clenches it, almost enough to draw blood. She smiles a flirty smile and tries to push away the feeling of her unsettled nerves. By now, you'd think she'd be used to mafia affairs.

“that’s bold ‘f ya. so, what’re ya drinkin’?”

_They’re part of the monster mafia._


	3. Treacherous Heart of Mine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yet another chapter!  
> Oh god every time I read my chapters I find small but annoying mistakes...  
> Please don't pay them any mind.

_These monsters, they’re part of the monster mafia._

"Blooming Sunshine," she answers, gesturing to the yellow liquid. Her first reaction is turning impressed. No matter how many gangsters think they've got attitude, it all goes out the window when compared to these two. Especially that skeleton guy. Her mind starts calculating the next move on the board, but somehow it takes much more energy and focus to keep her body language blank while figuring out what to do. Her heart is beating unnervingly fast, making Frisk hate the heat going through her every time she looks at him. The hope that she doesn’t make a misstep suddenly interrupts her elaborate planning, making her almost shake her head to clear the very clouded mind of hers. Everything becomes much more interesting than looking at the skeleton.

The stage in the other end of the room is being used by a harmonious band, led by a singing siren. They’re playing a classical number which suits the singer’s voice well. Trying to calm her body she glances at the band over the heads of dancing couples. Their rhythm is mesmerizing, the music beautiful and laughter is faintly heard over the song.

_Think, Frisky, or you'll end up dead in an alley. Or worse, crushing on a mobster._

Usually this doesn't happen to Frisk, she’s more clear-minded than this, and she’s been in more dangerous situations than this one. She can recall multiple times where she had to fight her way out of sticky situations, especially since Tana became an investigator and thereby earned a lot of enemies. Her baby sister has a habit of taking cases nobody dares to and more than half involves small gangs or sometimes a mob.

“ _If I don't take them, then who will? Everybody deserves justice, not just the rich and powerful,_ ” is her go-to excuse for getting entangled in dangerous webs of cases, lies and tommy guns. While the latter only happened once on a case involving a missing daughter of a previous colleague, it had been one too many times for Frisk. When they found the girl, bullets went flying everywhere, and somebody brought Thompson submachine guns. On which side they were on, Frisk never figured out, but she was glad of her strong mind-set to come with Tana to the ‘abandoned’ warehouse, so she could get her away unscathed.

Normally the criminals avoid any fighting in the public while the sun is out, and it is mutually agreed to never attack any neutral cafés, bars or restaurants. Most of this she was already aware of before Tana's profession, though.

_They won't attack me here, this is a respectable, public establishment._

Her thoughts aren't really leading her anywhere, so she quickly stops to get a hold on herself. On previous cases Frisk was the one to come up with a plan, and to be honest she is rather good at it. The shadows surrounding the booth and its occupants make it hard to pick out any delicate details. The red supporting Frisk’s behind is making her lose feeling of said body part, creating an irritable tingling. The red lipstick coated lips of hers part as if she's about to speak, but any possible words leave her the moment she tries to talk. Just what is this guy doing to her? Not even her foster-uncle can make her this dumbfounded!

“I say we push her out the door before she starts troubling anyone, _especially_ us.”

“calm down undyne, pretty lady like ‘er ‘s no trouble at all.”

“' _Pretty lady like her_ ', you're just a pathological flirt!”

“just ‘cause i haven't settled down like ya an' alphys have, doesn't mean ’m a tease!”

They turn to each other while arguing, becoming distracted, and Frisk looks around to find the door.

_If I hurry, I'll be out of the booth before they acknowledge I'm gone and if I'm fast enough I can probably run-_

_Except I'll have to read Erica’s paper with instructions to get back and there's no way I'll shake off two mobsters in a foreign city. In_ their _city._

Her plan to escape by running is quickly turned down, but their discussion is still ongoing and it's starting to become a little heated.

“THAT’S NOT TRUE! ALPHYS LOVES IT WHEN WE ARGUE! SHE CALLS ME PASSIONATE!”

“passionate? maybe try _thick skull’d._ ”

She takes the time to study him intensely. His skull is rounder than a human’s, and instead of eyes, ears or a nose he’s got black holes. The only difference is that his eye sockets has white pinpoints instead of the expected purely black holes. They glitter with emotions while discussing.

_Like sparkling diamonds._

She thinks her presence is momentarily forgotten in the heat of the moment, but suddenly Undyne turns and starts gritting her teeth at Frisk. She has to suppress a start at the sight of them.

“Whatever! Just get _out_ of our booth, nerd, before I make you!!!”

“I-is this your booth? Why, I didn't know… I'll just leave then!” Her talking turns faster by the syllable and by the end she’s talking so fast it’s almost unintelligible. She frantically grabs her purse from beside her and starts to stand up when a gloved hand puts her to a fearful stop. The touch makes her skin heat up, and one of the only things acting can't do anything against happens; her cheeks blush a rosy red. So much for controlling her body language.

“what’s da rush _buttacup_?” he questions while giving the remaining flower on her drink a glance, and instantly her cheeks turn an even deeper red, if it’s even possible. She got so startled by Undyne, she completely forgot to form a clever escape plan and instinct took over. What is the meaning of this? Why isn't her brain working today? Is it the magic from her drink or something? _That must be it_ , she concludes, _the drink is making me lightheaded._

Undyne and Skeleton exchange mysterious glances and she sits down lamely. Their eyes turn back to the human when she speaks up.

“I-I don't want any trouble, I just came here to check out the place, I'm new in... New Ebott,” she cringes, “just came by to visit some family.”

The human’s painfully aware of the heavy hand still holding her down in her seat.

_Just relax. This is fine. Totally fine._

“family, huh? ‘ey, grillbz, the usual over ‘ere!” his voice booms over the noise. His eyes don’t leave her, but in the corner of her peripheral vision, she sees Ms. Sharp Teeth reaching into her jacket. Frisk feels like she's being interrogated. Scratch that – they're sharks and she's dinner.

_If she's reaching for her gun I might be done for, mine’s in my bag._

“I’d absolutely love to stay and chat, but I'm afraid I have to leave,” her brain finally decides to be productive and starts searching for excuses. Even if her start was more or less pathetic. “You see, it’s already dark out, and Erica might-” realization hits the self-loathing woman in front of them. She mentally facepalms, although it probably would have helped if she could outright do it physically.

Bone-Dude’s and Fish-Lady’s ears practically perk up, or they would if they had any.

_Shit._

“erica? that yer family?” the grip tightens. Her ears cower at the sound of scrunching leather.

_I'm severely lacking a working and useful brain! I'm usually never like this._

“Answer him, punk!”

_Inhale. Exhale. Repeat. Unclench your fist, just like that, and now look him dead in the eyes. Confidence is of utmost importance now._

“No, Erica isn't my family, she's a friend.” She lifts up her chin and rests it upon a hand, succeeding in looking relaxed.

“She's a bunny monster,” is added, to avoid appearing racist. Very much a weird flex; ensuring people that you aren't racist, but in these parts it's worth more than gold.

Just as she's finished speaking, the bartender appears with a tray bearing three different drinks. Frisk recognizes the yellow one, Blooming Sunshine, however the red and copper drinks’ names remain unknown to her. He places the red one in front of the skeleton and the copper by the fish. The incense of... condiments fills the booth. More precisely, ketchup.

“thanks, grillby, but I didn' order that one.” He points to the buttercup colored drink, hand having left her shoulder the moment when the barten- Grillby, appeared with his smoldering flames casting a smooth, azure light. She smiles to the blue flames, genuinely thankful for his gesture of kindness once again.

“You didn't need to do that, Grillby. I did enjoy the first one awfully much, but I can hardly let this one be on the house as well,” she says sweetly to him, and she could've sworn he just winked with the scarred eye of his.

“Try a new one?” He asks, choosing to completely ignore the mobsters’ presence. This seems oddly bold of him to Frisk, and she mentally files the action away in the back of her mind for future reference. They both try to cover up their surprise, but Undyne flinches and still unnamed Bone-Dude’s sockets lose their lights in a moment of agitation. It’s pretty scary. Maybe Grillby should have answered him.

“Actually, I'd like that. If it tastes just half as good as this one,” she points to the shining drink, “it’ll still be amazing.”

His flames turn a bit purple from the compliment, and if she had payed attention to her company, she would’ve seen two very confused individuals. The fish is the first to recover with a cough.

“Let me help you. Keep an eye on the lady there,” the aggressive mobster gives her the up-and-down look before following Grillby back to the bar.

“don’t mind ´er. ‘dyne’s damned hotheaded,” his face seems to have a permanent grin on it, she’s discovered, but right now it looks… genuine?

_Probably some trick to make me feel a false sense of comfort._

His gloved hand supports his skull while his eyes continue to dazzle Frisk.

_He might be scum, but I'll be damned if he isn't the most handsome monster I've ever seen._

Her composure is collected and – even though a small voice in the back of her mind advises her against it – an apore imagine flashes across her face.

“see somethin’ ya like sweetheart?”

_Almost blushed again._

“Your eyes are…” _like stars,_ “interesting _._ Do you control their light?”

“ _eye_ mostly don't, but if i get angry or lose control… trust me sweeks, they ain't a nice sight for a decent gal like yasself.”

She lets out a hearty laugh that she tries to hide with her hand.

“Was that… an eye pun?” Asks Frisk, purposely ignoring that last part.  

“you betcha,” he answers while a satisfied grin spreads on his ebony face. He isn't so intimidating when he smiles happily, and she feels herself relax despite the situation. Enough so that she smiles back at him.

“I never imagined a mobster like you would enjoy such a small thing as a pun,” sounds her confession – even if the back of her mind advices her against telling.

“how do ya know ’m a mobster sweetheart?” Voice surprisingly soft, eyes half open, and his hands pushing back the fedora, the skeleton, whose name is  _still_ unknown to Frisk, leans over the table in a suggestive manner.

_Better not tell him about Tana’s case, just in case the Gaster family is behind the kidnapping. Also, stop being attracted to him, please._

“Lucky guess. I saw your gun when you sat down before, and in order for you to have one I'm guessing you'd have to be part of a mob. New Ebott is widely known for them.”  

He doesn't seem convinced. In fact, he lifts his eyebro-

 _Uhh… He lifts the_ bone _where his eyebrows are supposed to be… How does that even work anyway and_ why _do I find it hot?_

 _“_ listen kid. i don't want ya ta get hurt or sumthin’ so i’ll give ya a piece ‘f advice,” his hand finds its resting place on her shoulder, “if it involves da mob, leave it alone.”

“Oh, so you’re telling me to leave your company, then?” Her hand finds his gloved one and she lifts it to her lips. There's a lot of strength in the broad skeleton, so she doesn't doubt for a second that she’s only able to do so because he lets her. However, when brown eyes meet sparkling eye sockets for what really is a brief moment, but seems like a lifetime, butterflies flutter in her stomach. Usually when she play-flirts, her body is merely amused, not turned on.

“can’t say i want ya ta, but this city’s real dangerous,” is his answer after a long, weird silence, “and while i don’t doubt ya got a logical reason fer bein’ here, ya should take my advice an' leave.”

_Okay. I hate butterflies from now on._

“I'm afraid I can't do that, Mr. Skeleton.”

“i'm guessin’ it’s not just ‘cause 'f my pleasant self you’re stayin’.”

“Who says it’s not?” She teases with a wink.

He's about to answer when their previous company comes back.

“Hey PUNK! You better like this drink, or I'll make you!!!” She violently places a scarlet cocktail in front of ‘the punk’. A great name, certainly. Too bad her ‘passionate’ motion made some of the liquid spill onto the table.

“Determination,” says the walking and talking flame while tapping the glass lightly.

“Is… Is it called determination?” he nods, “what a cool name, Grillby. You're a man of few words, aren't you?”

“yup. an' that's the only reason undyne didn't kill ya. apparently, he’s taken a likin’ to ya,” _wink_ , “just the fact that he’s talkin' to ya _speaks volumes_.”

Yet another pun to make his fellow monsters groan, but Frisk just smiles.

“Let's see if I like this as much as the first one then.”

She takes a sip of the drink, which, granted, doesn't taste much like anything.

“Hmm… It doesn't-” she stops mid-sentence when the magic hits her.

_It’s… like pleasant, sizzling waves of heat in my blood. I feel like I can do anything, if I want to!_

“...Nevermind. It just hit me. God this magic stuff is really something else,” blue flames flicker in response.

Then she remembers something she has happily forgotten.

_Shit, I still gotta pee!_

She puts her drink down a bit harder than she intends to and looks up at Grillby. She's finally come up with a plan.

“Uhh… I know humans don't come in here that often, but do you perhaps… have a bathroom to freshen up in?”

Questioning gazes fall upon her but she only looks at the bartender. He nods and points to the other end of the room where there’s placed two doors.

“Left for women,” is his answer, and Frisk sends a thankful smile his way.

_I'll just casually pick up my purse and go to the bathroom._

“I'll be right back!” She chires to her company but no hand holds her down when she stands up this time. She gazes over to the punster. She blows him a cheeky kiss, only to make sure he’s off guard.

_Got you buttered up, huh, Mr. Skeleton?_

When she’s crossed the crowded room to get to her destination, she quickly slips inside.

She’s met by a decently sized public restroom, consisting of only one toilet, a sink with a mirror and a cupboard. She sets her purse against the wall. When she has taken care of her urgent business, she turns to the high window and looks down at her heels.

“Alright you're going first,” she mutters while taking off her beloved shoes. Holding them in one hand and opening the window with the other, she finally manages to throw them outside, quickly followed by her purse.

The window is too far up for her to climb through without something to stand on, so she uses the toilet as a platform and goes through the opening. When she jumps down a piece of her dress gets tattered, making her mutter all sorts of curses and unpleasantries. It isn't too bad on the dress, but she grabs the small piece of fabric from the nail it got caught on, putting it in her purse. Her bare feet start to freeze against the cold concrete, but Frisk decides against putting the heels back on.

“Let's hope I don't run into more trouble on the way home, shall we Frisk?” She whispers out loud, trying to orient herself.

She's currently in a back alley with many trash containers and two wall lights. They flicker. She's too scared to go around to the main entrance just so she can get home easier with Erica’s instructions, so she decides to go around a block and find the alleyway before Grillby’s.

The darkness swallows almost the entire city and suddenly she feels very vulnerable. The pistol is in her hand before she can give it a second thought. Not knowing what's in the darkness can make many people paranoid. Frisk normally isn't one of those people, but the skeleton’s warning really did a number on her psyche. He is right, after all, this is New Ebott and dangers lurk around every corner. The silence is nervewracking, but when it’s replaced by a muffled yell, Frisk will much rather have the silence come back once again.

_Dammit. Somebody needs help!_

It came from just further down the street and to the left. Frisk starts debating whether or not to go and see if she can help, she isn't defenseless in a fight.

_As if I have a choice, my conscience would never allow myself to walk away from somebody in need of help._

Her bare feet are starting to become numb of the cold, but her steps are completely silent. She peeks around the corner to observe the situation.

A group of men stand around and above another figure. In the non-existent light it's very hard to make out what type of monster it is, but there's definitely a tail, and the body is small and compact. Shattered glasses lie before its feet. In total there's three men, but with the element of surprise Frisk doesn't doubt she can take them all out swiftly. A moving shadow upon a low building catches her eye: it’s another human, most likely some sort of lookout. He’ll have to die first. Already, a small plan takes form.

Frisk’s gun is a mere PPK/S .22 with a silencer, or at least that’s what the guy who sold it told her. She doesn't know much about guns, just enough to get around. Taking aim, she takes a deep breath. The lady pulls the trigger.

A muffled sound can be heard when the body falls on the roof, but his friends don't seem to notice. Next, she aims at the one holding a gun. The two other people are currently muffling the monster with some cloth and trying to tie it up. A soft sound is made by her pistol when she pulls the trigger again, but this time they notice when their buddy hits the ground with a loud _thump_. They both turn around to face her. Before they can reach for their guns, she’s already shot the closest one.

She chances a quick glance at the monster to make sure it's alright, but movement makes her gaze fall upon the remaining man again, shooting on instinct. Unlucky for her, she completely misses.

_Shit._

The enemy gun points at her head and goes off. Pain emerges in her body making her fall to her knees with a cry. Another gun goes off. Frisk hears a body hit the ground.

Movement sound in the alley, but it isn't the sound of light human feet, rather it’s the sound of a heavy monster.

It's at this moment she notices she isn't dead. She blinks dust out of her eye and brings her hands to the wound on her leg, but still looks up on the monster.

“A-are you o-okay?” Comes from her, apparently a lizard type, but her voice is anxious. It's obvious she doesn't quite know what to do with her weird human savior. Frisk realizes she has the lizard to thank for being alive right now. She must’ve pushed the man so the bullet merely hit her leg.

“If I don't get,” _deep breath_ , “this cleaned up soon, I don't think,” _painful hiss,_ “the result will be pretty. Can you help me get to Snowdin Inn?”

The lizard introduces herself as Alphys and they both thank each other for saving their lives. The name sounds familiar, but her mind is too unclear to dig deeper. Frisk uses some of the fabric from her already ruined dress to create a makeshift bandage to stop the bleeding.

“I’ve got healing candy at the inn, but I can't walk there on my-” she makes an off-minded move to pat her leg for emphasis and instantly groans in pain.

Luckily, they aren't far from the inn, but halfway there the lizard gets a phone call.

“O-oh no… I-I forgot to c-call Undyne! We w-were supposed to m-meet at the bar!” She exclaims, supporting Frisk with the left arm, and getting out a high-tech phone with the right. Frisk’s mind decides to do its job and puts together the pieces of information she just gathered.

_Undyne and Alphys? Didn't the skeleton say they were a couple?_

_More mobster affairs!_ Just _what I needed..._

A worried voice sounds through the phone, and Alphys explains what has happened. Turns out, she had been on her way to Grillby's when she was ambushed by members of Los Amparadores. They had threatened her with guns and tried to kidnap her, but a female human had saved her. She continues to compare her to some anime heroine; which Frisk is weirdly flattered over. The monster is telling her girlfriend that she's on her way to Snowdin inn to get help for the human, when Frisk’s heart stops.

“Wait! Alphys don't!” She cries, helplessly trying for the phone.

“S-sure we c-can meet there! We a-are there i-i-in a minute.”

A shiver runs down her spine while she limps on her right leg. She really isn't looking forward to reuniting with the intimidating fish to explain why she ran out of Grillby’s, but her treacherous heart beats faster at the thought of seeing Mr. Skeleton again.

When they reach the inn, Erica opens the door with a worried look. Frisk is placed on the red couch in the lobby, and the bunny walks upstairs to get the bag of healing candies from her suitcase. The wound is bleeding relentlessly, and the pain along with the blood loss is making her mind groggy.

Her eyes close in a moment of exhaustion.

_What if what almost happened to Alphys happened to Tana?_

The thought pains her even more so than her leg, and before she can stop herself she’s nodding off on the blood-stained couch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have absolutely no posting schedule whatsoever but I rather like this story, so it'll probably be updated quite often (with long chapters). If you like this fic do feel free to comment!


	4. Coursing Blood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of Frans to get the story going ;D

“U-uh Frisk?”

_long pause_

“E-E-Erica… Is she d-dead?”

“Of course, not…”

“Then w-why isn’t she waking up?”

_A door opens_

“U-Undyne! Thank A-Asgore you’re h-here,”

“Captain. Mr. Gaster.”

“t-the human is d-dead!”

“I _already_ told you she isn’t!”

 

* * *

 

Frisk awakes with a sharp pain exploding in her wounded leg.

“Ah!” she screams and darts upwards to a sitting position. Undyne looms above her with a wicked grin and a cocked hip.

“Erica was right, Alphie. She isn’t dead.”

Frisk wants to send her a death glare, but her gaze turns to her leg instead. It’s bleeding. A lot. She becomes dizzy from sitting up too fast and puts her hands to her head.

She wants to ask where her healing candies are, but she can’t concentrate on anything, the blood loss really getting to her. She starts to gasp for air and suddenly Undyne’s shadow is pushed away for a different one to take its place.

“thought i told ya not ta get inta trouble sweetheart.”

_Mr. Skeleton?_

She turns slowly to look at him, but he’s already moving. A small, black bag of candies is suddenly in his grasp and he puts one of its contents in Frisk’s mouth.

_Not as romantic as I imagined our next meeting would be…_

She starts chewing with a rush of determination, but another shot of pain rises from her leg, although this time a bit numbed. She swallows the sour candy before she lets out a pathetic whimper.

“Blood loss.” She mutters to no one in particular, but the figure beside her starts to curse.

“erica, we’re gonna need sum’ towels stat, yeah?” Frisk is starting to close her eyes when Erica runs off.

The sound of moving leather reaches her ears followed by a pair of hands holding her shoulders down on the couch.

“get out da bullet, alphys, i’ll hold ‘er down.”

“I-I don’t have a-any sanit-t-tary equipment with m-me…”

“then improvise, capiche?”

“A-alright.”

There’re scuffling sounds while she runs around trying to find something to use.

If Frisk was conscious, she would’ve made an exasperated sigh when Alphys looked through her purse.

“U-uhm… g-gun… tweezers… lipst-stick…”

“Hey, what if we use some hand sanitizer on the tweezers?”

“T-that’s a good i-idea sweetie!”

“I’ll go get some!”

 When Alphys takes out the bullet and Erica helps her bandage the wound, Frisk is too far away to notice. The sweet emptiness of being out cold has her in a tight grip.

 

* * *

 

She’s shaken awake by a pair of fierce hands. Or, well, fins to be exact. When she stubbornly refuses to open her eyes, content with being dead for a while longer, a couple of threats reach her ears. Frisk doesn’t believe them.

She should though, because one of the threats involves a cold water bucket. Undyne throws all of its icy liquid over the human. She starts to cough unstoppably and rolls over to her side.

“You… scaly… bitch!” She accuses between coughs. She is on the bathroom floor in her rented room, the arctic tiles doing nothing to help her gain a higher body temperature. She’s sleepy and the feeling just won’t go away. Not even the ice bucket helps.

“Yeah, yeah, but at least thank me for helping to save your life, punk!” She’s got both her hands on her hips and is slightly bended to be closer to the human at her feet. Said human sits upright noticing her leg isn’t in much pain anymore. Undyne crouches down and looks at her with a strange facial expression.

“You’re right. Thanks for helping me, you really didn’t have to. Now I owe you one, don’t I?” The fish sighs.

“You owe me nothing. Look, kid, thanks for saving Alphys, she means the world to me,” she smiles with distant eyes, “I… worried when she didn’t show up on time, but when I called, and she told me some female human had saved her… I was baffled to say the least. I don’t know any humans that would- actually that’s not true, I know one.”

Frisk is valiantly trying to stay awake, but her eyelids are becoming heavier and heavier. A curse sounds from beside her.

“Hey, punk, let’s get you showered before you fall asleep, okay?” Her voice is soft and gentle, totally alien for Frisk, but she nods. She looks down at herself, revealing her body coated with a green, oversize, soaking wet dress.

_Is this Erica’s? How long was I out for?_

“Uhh… I’ll go outside. Call if you need me…”

The dress goes off and she turns on the water at a hot temperature.

She’s standing under the warm water for quite some time, shampooing her hair, washing her body, but with a more tender touch when she reaches her right leg. The wound is a bit red, but it’s closed together. She is lucky the bullet missed the artery, tibia and fibula.

When she’s completely finished, except for drying her hair, Frisk asks Undyne to bring her some clothes from her suitcase.

Now she’s dressed in an old t-shirt with some print and a pair of grey cotton shorts. She sits down on her bed with a _thump_. Undyne is leaning against a wall with crossed arms and glances at her watch.

“Thanks again, punk. Get some sleep.” She pushes of the orange tapestry to walk out before Frisk even gets to answer. She falls back upon the bed to stare up at the ceiling.

_Please don’t be kidnapped, Tana._

An image of her baby sister tied up and tortured makes way to her mind, but she pushes it away lest she starts to come undone. Despite her efforts the ceiling becomes a blurry mess of beige.

“Pull yourself together!”

She sniffles once before burying her feelings deep down where they can’t reach her.

Softened voices are outside her door, but she can’t make out what they’re talking about. Her eyes are closed and drifting off to sleep when a knock on her door can be heard.

“Nobody’s home! Come back later…” She tries to shout, but she can’t determine how loud her voice is. Squeaking metal follows her voice, but she doesn’t quite notice, drifting off again. If she had paid mind to her surroundings, she would’ve heard the sound of dress shoes against the soft carpet in the small room.

A monster crouches before her to tug a strand of loose hair behind her ear, making the sound of a moving leather glove.

“ya awake sweetheart?” he whispers. When she feels the feather-light touch of a hand alarms goes off in her mind. Momentarily forgetting where she is, she shoots up with a half-sharp mind, ready to defend herself against any intruders in her and Tana’s apartment. With a swift move she goes for a punch at the throat, but half-way through the motion she realizes he doesn’t have one.

No harm done though, because he catches her flying fist with ease, giving Frisk a moment to take in her situation.

_Oh god I’m so stupid! Of course, it’s not an intruder, it’s just Mr. Skeleton-_

Her thought needs a double take.

_Mr.… Skeleton… In my rented room?_

Her confusion is written all over her face and her hand falls down into her lap when he lets go.

“Mr. Skeleton? What the hell are _you_ doing here?”

Suddenly her brain serves her multiple reasons why on a silver platter. She absent-mindedly tugs at her hair, and her eyes go big.

“U-uhm… I-I can explain!” Sputters Frisk, becoming aware of the power a mobster possesses. Her usual confidence leaves her like water through a sieve.

The bastard has the _audacity_ to let out a humored laugh.

“’s okay. ya were wise to leave outta da bathroom. ‘m not holdin’ a grudge,” as he leans closer the smell of spirits and… ketchup becomes stronger. She files it away as his signature scent.

_Those damned butterflies better calm down._

“Glad to hear you say so,” she imagines how it would feel to run curious fingertips over the surface of his glove, “but why are you here?”

“’cause alphys said ya were hurt tryin’ to save ‘er.”

“It wasn’t _that_ bad…”

“yea t’was! what were ya thinkin’, walkin’ on that leg o’ yours?!”

Intense eye sockets stare down a pair of confused eyes.

The silence coats them in an uncomfortable feeling.

Some confidence gathers in Frisk before she speaks.

“Well if I hadn’t done anything, Alphys would be kidnapped right now. I don’t regret it one bit.”

The bed shakes a bit when he uses it to stand up. He does so because his phone goes off.

“take care sweetheart.”

He’s about to answer his phone when he just… disappears. Without a trace.

_Note to self: put mysterious on the list of things I like about Mr. Skeleton._

She sleeps for 5 hours before her alarm goes off.

10 am.

She doesn’t stop groaning until she has turned the devilish thing off, and her groggy mind doubts if it’s even worth it to wake up.

It is.

Painfully reminded of the lack of toilet in her bathroom, Frisk decides to ask Erica for a solution when she goes downstairs.

_I can’t keep going to Grillby’s when I have to use the restroom._

A pang of worry goes through her when she remembers last night’s events. _I need to stay out of their mafia business. I saved Alphys because she was a victim, but now I need to concentrate on finding Tay,_ is the first rational thought of her morning. Good for her.

She throws on a proper pantsuit not unlike the one she wore when she arrived yesterday, but this time it is with a grey pinstriped pattern on black. She reuses her white shirt though and picks up her fedora when she walks over to her suitcase on the rectangular wooden table. She searches through the pockets inside the case to find what she’s looking for: a new magazine. She also finds her gun inside her purse to reload, and she feels lucky nobody went through it, just in case they found it.

_Good. Doubt they would let me keep it if they found out I had it._

Her women’s purse is thoroughly dirtied, Frisk finds. A sigh leaves her when she has to go into the bathroom again to wet a towel, so she can clean it.

The purse itself can actually more be considered a bag. It’s black for camouflage and almost as wide as her hips, so she can keep all of her stuff in it.

_Perhaps I should get a holster for my gun that I can wear on my leg? It’d make for easier access._

For now, though, it goes in the bag and she checks the other room in her purse for her emergency magazines. They’re there.

She looks longingly after her favorite pair of boots – the brown ones – but decides to wear flat shoes.

_We will be reunited again my loves…_

On her way out of the inn, she stops by to talk to Erica, but she isn’t there. She finds a piece of paper and writes;

_Erica,_

_Please consider getting a human toilet in the near future._

_Sincerely, a human._

The slip of paper is left on the counter and Frisk sets out to find a bookstore. She recalls the mention of the border between the Ruins and Snowdin, so she orients herself and walks in the general direction of the other district. The streets are filled with life: humans, monsters, pets… The different smells of street food find their way to her curious nose, and she’s reminded of her lack of dinner yesterday. She buys a hotdog from a stand but is made aware of the fact that it’s actually a hot _cat_. She nods like it’s the most reasonable thing in the world, and the blue bunny seems appeased. He asks her if she wants a nice cream as well with glinting, excited eyes, and she can’t say no.

“ _Are those claws natural?_ ” it says inside the wrapper, not doing the least to keep a smile off her face. _Why yes, they are_ , she answers inside of her mind.

“Have a good day Mr.” She says before walking off with her goods.

She stops some blocks away from Erica’s and calls a cab, which arrives fairly quickly. By the time she is at the bookstore, she’s eaten her… _unhealthy_ … breakfast.

There’s the sound of a door bell when she goes inside. The store isn’t very big, but the space is used up to its fullest; there’s bookcases everywhere with a disarray of colorful books. She walks around on the stone floor with a hand on the back of the many books until she finds something interesting; “ _Souls for dummies_ ”. A careful hand takes it out to read the summary on the back, but there’s nothing. In fact, the book seems old and dusty.

Scuffling comes from the other side of the bookcase, and Frisk looks around it.

A _book_ worm is on its way towards her. Frisk mentally laughs at her pun. Mr. Skeleton must be rubbing off on her.

Its 6 feet long body has a green color, but it has no legs or arms. _Poor thing, it must be hard to read without arms,_ she thinks, but the monster itself doesn’t seem to care, so she decides not to either. The caterpillar is wearing a pair of thick glasses and a nice smile. She smiles back.

“See anything that you are interested in? That book is only 5G, since everybody seems to know about souls now-a-days. They learn about it in schools, don’t they?”

She lifts her right hand where she’s still holding the book. Her mind wanders off to her very light wallet, but the bookworm is too nice to reject. His odor is that of some kind of flower, although Frisk doesn’t recognize it.

“I’ve never even heard about souls. What are they exactly?”

“A soul is… Well, it is the very culmination of your being. Sorry, but I can’t say more, it will just spoil the book.”

“Yes, you’re completely right. Mr.? …”

“Baklavas, my dear. Say, have we met before? You look awfully familiar!”

She looks around to make sure nobody else is in the shop before she answers.

“You spoke with my sister a week ago. Her name is Tana, and I believe you met at Grillby’s.” His facial expression turns surprised at the statement, but he doesn’t appear aggressive in the least.

“That human girl was your sister?”

_Just said so, yes._

She nods.

“Yes… She asked me about Monster Kid’s disappearance. Everybody loved him, but when we went to the Gasters for help, they shrugged it off like it was nothing!”

“The Gasters, huh? Sound like douchebags if you ask me. Tell me what you told her, please.”

“Do not speak badly of them, they are quite nice. They are just very busy with their business.”

“Busy with what exactly? Los Amparadores?”

“H-how did you know?”

“Doesn’t take a genius to guess a gang war is around the corner.” He curls together slightly and feverishly looks over his shoulder.

“Do not _say_ something like that! The wrong people could hear…” He whispers, and part of his body lifts up, so it makes a 90-degree angle. His face is inside her comfort zone, while instinct tells her to back off, but her determination won’t let her. Her voice drops to a low tone when she speaks up.

“Like who?”

There’s a pause where Mr. Baklavas thinks through what to say. He takes in a breath before he answers with, “like the Alonsos… They monitor my bookstore,” in the same hushed voice Frisk used.

“Why haven’t the Gaster family done anything? Don’t you pay your protection fee?”

He looks insulted by the very fact.

“Of course, I do. It is just… _they_ would find out if I told anybody-“ A panic shoots through him, and if he had hands, he would’ve grabbed Frisk in a frenzy.

“Oh god! I just told you! You cannot tell on me, _please_!”

Frisk pats the caterpillar to get him to calm down.

“I won’t tell. Now; you need to spill some metaphorical beans, Mr. Baklavas. Where. Is. Tana.”

“I-I d-do not k-know… I told her I saw Monster Kid get ambushed by some h-human attackers. She asked for any information on Los Amparadores I could give her…”

“And? What did you tell?”

“That… I-I can’t tell you!” She grips his body with both hands in a supportive look.

“I need to know, if I am to rescue Monster Kid and my sister, Mr. Baklavas.” He shakes like a leaf at that, but nonetheless tries to calm himself down with deep breaths.

“U-uh…”

She gives him a reassuring smile and strokes him gently.

“I… gave her the name of their local hangout spot.”

“Tell me.”

 

* * *

 

 

When she steps outside with her new book in the purse and an interesting lead, she can’t help but feel the hairs on her neck stand up when the feeling of being watched surfaces. She tries to look absent-mindedly around, as if looking for the way to go, being rewarded when she catches a human shadow hiding behind a far-away corner.

_Surveillance indeed, Mr. Bookworm._

She pushes the fedora further down her eyes, happy that she chose the outfit she did with her long hair hidden away. She opens her bag to casually search for a pair of sunglasses, the sun _is_ bright after all. They reflect the rays and makes it near impossible to see her eyes.

Her feet walk away from outside the shop, determined to buy some food she can store back at the inn. A bear passes by her, and she very gently puts a soft hand on his arm to grab his attention before taking it back.

“Excuse me, but can you tell me where the nearest supermarket is?” Frisk asks the tall and fuzzy monster, having to look up quite a way.

He seems shocked to be stopped by her, and for a moment he examines the lady in front of him.

 _Oh, racism, such a lovely thing, you,_ she thinks sarcastically.

He raises a brow back and blinks in confusion.

“It’s two blocks down from here and to the left,” is his answer after a partially long silence.

“Oh! Thank you so much, Mr., I’m having trouble finding my way in this city, so I appreciate that you took out some of your time to help me!”

Her smile is bright, as always, and she’s perfectly aware that she came on too hard with the thank-you, although that’s exactly what she had gone for.

It works, since the monster smiles back.

“It’s confusing at first, yes,” he laughs.

“Very! Have a nice day.” They wave politely to each other before they’re on their merry way again.

When she stands before the gigantic supermarket, that is ‘Monster-Mart’, she starts making a list in her head consisting of basic stuff.

_Toothpaste, pads, possibly a new toothbrush, some snacks, a notebook and pens… am I forgetting anything?_

The black basket goes around her arm, while she goes around in the store. She’s gotten everything she needs, including a tiny hand mirror to put in her bag, so she walks towards the aisle to pay at the cash register. The line isn’t that long, so the stuff is quickly paid for. She’s got her bag of groceries in one hand and walks out of the store. She continues down the street trying to look for a cab-

_My wallet is really thinning out. If I keep this up, I’ll need to contact the Marchettis… God forbid._

“Ouch!”

\- when, suddenly, she’s on her ass and looking up at a tall skeleton. He lets out a startled yelp at the impact, him, too, getting effected by the push. This monster is quite unlike Mr. Skeleton, at least two or three feet taller, not nearly as big-boned, and has broad shoulders. A narrow skull showing worry is looking down at her.

“ARE YOU ALRIGHT, HUMAN?“ booms his voice, unnecessarily loud. Genuine concern shines through, leaving Frisk with an apologetic expression. His shirt is a crimson red, suspenders and tie black, while his pants are a light brown color. Quite the impressive sight, if Frisk does say so herself.

“Terribly sorry. I can be such a klutz at times!” She says with utmost respect and kindness. A pair of gloved hands reach down to help her gain footing, and that’s when Frisk sees the purple letter.

His gloves, gone unnoticed in the slight chaos, are black, yes, but across the back of the hand is etched a ‘G’ in the most glorious shade of purple. She wants to say eggplant, but it doesn’t seem to do it justice. In the light it shines beautifully.

_Gaster. He’s a Gaster._

Her body wishes to tense up, but Frisk has learned her lesson from Grillby’s and is more prepared for the sight of a high-ranking mobster. She lets him steady her while her mind screams to reach for her gun in the purse. Her lips curve upwards when she makes eye contact.

“What a gentleman,” is uttered after she takes a small step back to gain a normal distance from him. He still looks concerned, surprisingly, but lightens up a bit when she calls him a gentleman.

“OF COURSE! THE GREAT PAPYRUS IS MANY THINGS, INCLUDING A GENTLEMAN.”

Loud sound waves hit the woman’s ear, but she doesn’t show her discomfort. By now she’s recognized the monster.

_Papyrus Gaster._

After this moment, she realizes her groceries lie scattered on the ground.

 _Shit! Don’t be ruined,_ please _don’t be ruined._

Her face turns saddened.

The skeleton starts picking up her stuff and soon stands upright with the bag.

“I BELIEVE THIS BELONGS TO YOU, KLUTZY HUMAN!” She takes it when he offers, wondering why the son of Wing Dings Gaster, the head of Snowdin’s leading mafia, is being so nice about her accident.

_He does seem quite nice for at mobster, but so did Mr. Skeleton, Alphys and - oh, god I can’t believe I’m thinking this – Undyne._

Something clicks in her mind, but she doesn’t want to make assumptions based on race, so she lets the thought slide. Instead she opts for asking him something else;

“Say, do you know how far away I am from Snowdin Inn on foot?”

He looks thoughtful for a moment.

“WELL I WOULD SAY JUST ABOUT TWENTY MINUTES FROM HERE.”                   

_Really? That’s not so bad on flats._

He looks at her with a humored expression.

“QUITE RIGHT! EXERCISE IS GOOD FOR YOU.”

Her cheeks heat up when she realizes she said her thought out loud.

“I’ll be on my way now, Papyrus, but have a lovely day,” Frisk quickly adds before she can do something else that is stupid.

"GOODBYE.”

She almost runs off when fear clutches at her fast beating heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh wow! Two in a row? I'm on a roll.  
> I'm also considering forcing my friend to proof read my chapters, so that's something, right?


	5. Tilting Hopes and a Persuasive Skeleton

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *WARNING*  
> Slight gore when a description of torture comes up.  
> Also, things get heated at the end of the chapter.

 

_Dear Frisk,_

_I sent for a ~~water mage~~  plumber, so I expect he will be finished tomorrow._

_What trouble you and your sister are getting into, I do not know, but if it endangers my family, I insist that you pack up and leave._

_I am glad your leg is better._

_Erica._

 

Frisk lays down the paper on the round bedside table next to her and takes out her green notebook and pen from her shopping bag.

_So, what do I know so far?_

The notebook gets opened on the first page and Frisk starts to scribble down what she’s gathered.

  1. _There is a war between the Alonso family and the Gaster Family._
  2. _The Dreemurr family is possibly on the Gasters’ side, since they have been known to ally against monster suppressers before._
  3. _Monster Kid was kidnapped by the Alonsos._
  4. _Baklavas saw, and now he is under surveillance._
  5. _Baklavas met with Tana, and now she is missing as well._
  6. _She was most likely kidnapped by the same people that took Monster Kid, when they found out she was on the case._
  7. _‘The Golden Bull’ is the hangout place of Los Amparadores._
  8. _Every Sunday a group from the mob gathers at the bar to listen to live entertainment, including Dominic Alonso; first son of Emmanuel Alonso._



Her consistent scribbling comes to a stop. The mess she is about to get into involves a precaution-worthy plan. First thing first, she can’t go barging in on hostile territory, she’ll need a waterproof excuse to sit with Dominic. The heir to Los Amparadores is her preferred insider, but if push comes to shove, she’ll gladly settle on a lower ranked. Her meeting with Mr. Baklavas has been insightful to say the least, coming away with some good information and clever hints. For example: one should not speak ill of Dominic’s nose; it is rather big, and the body part is a sore topic. He gave her some rubbish as well, a lot of myths and rumors.

“ _I once heard of a time where somebody had insinuated Emmanuel Alonso killed his own wife. Preposterous, I am aware, and when Mr. Alonso heard, he threw the poor youngster off the highest building in New Ebott!”_

The rumor about former Mrs. Alonso’s murderer being her very own husband seems to be everywhere though. It says so in Tana’s files as well, but it’s never been confirmed. Opinions on the matter are many and creative, but if Frisk has to be honest, she doesn’t believe such a rumor. It is just that; a rumor. No sane man, coldblooded murderer or no, would kill his own wife without a reason, and, presumably, they were very close. Her intel on Los Amparadores is limited though. Being a newcomer with no ties whatsoever to the city – except a possibly kidnapped sister – and not faring outside Greenmay City’s borders, she never quite did become well-known in mafia affairs. Well, the Marchettis and their business partners being the exception to the rule. Frisk’s and Tana’s home city, that of Greenmay, has one leading mob; The Marchetti’s. Their Italian roots have been wiped in the sand, so all that remains is their last name, but she’s pretty sure they have family there somewhere.

The live music begins at 8:00 pm, so she wants to be there 7:30. This will give her time to get a drink, scope out the place for exits and windows, and figure out which group of people is the one she’s looking for. If everything goes according to plan, she’ll drop something, bump into Dominic or make otherwise ‘accidental’ contact with him.  Then she’ll ask if she can wait for her friends with his group since she came early, and they will say yes. Frisk'll be the perfect company, laughing at the right times, flirting when deemed necessary and relaxing. When they let down their guard and have had a few drinks, she’ll start to complain over the Gasters and Dreemurrs to get the conversation going and try her best to steer it into getting the info she desperately needs on Tana. If she so much as smells trouble, she’ll excuse herself ladylike and leave. The Alonsos aren’t like the Gasters; While both are terribly dangerous in their own ways, Emmanuel Alonso makes it his mission to publicize what happens to anyone who  _dares_ to betray him and those behind his figure: they won’t just get killed. They will be tortured in the worst ways possible.

Maybe they start off with ripping off your nails. One by one, 20 in total. Perhaps you said something to the wrong guys; you lose your tongue, leaving the rest to bleed massively in your mouth. Of course, you will try to swallow it at first, metallic blood nearly drowning you, but when the bleeding becomes too much, you’ll need to spit it out.

Now imagine how they start breaking the bones in first your left hand, taking their sweet time to prolong the never-ending pain, and next your right. Aching to be forgotten, to cease to exist in that very moment, the desire to die is greater than life. You try to scream in pain, but the blood in your mouth accidentally ends up choking you instead. Torn between spitting and letting out yelps of pain, what will you do? Endure it, that’s what.

Emmanuel doesn’t stop there. To him, that’s simply his warmup. Outskilling everybody Frisk has ever heard of in torture, she’ll much rather bail on a fishy situation than risk ending up worse than her sister. She’s met and dealt with guys like him before, people who take personal pleasure in seeing others hurting. They’re not a walk in the park.

Forcing herself out of her uncomfortable thoughts, the human ponders over what to wear, considering she didn’t exactly pack many fancy dresses or outfits. The dress from last night is outright ruined, and she can’t show up in a pantsuit if she may or may not need to resort to flirting. She searches frantically in her suitcase for anything fitting, throwing clothes everywhere.

_Do I seriously need to go shopping? Are you kidding me? I’m going to have to spend some of my last G on a puny dress?_

The answer is no – she isn’t going to do that. She'll much rather ask Erica. So, she does.

Her feet make soft sounds on the carpet when she runs down to the ‘lobby’. She starts talking on her way down the stairs, not seeing or hearing the other people there.

“Hey, Erica, can I borrow a- “ she reaches the bottom of the staircase and turns slightly to look at the bunny behind the counter. She isn’t alone in the room; two more monsters are accompanying her. They make Frisk stop dead in her tracks.

 _Shit. I_ was  _right! They really are brothers._

_Not the best thing to be right about though._

She feels as if Undyne threw another ice bucket over her, in the middle of the Antarctica, when her body freezes on the spot. Nervousness finds way to every corner of her body, so Frisk has to suppress a shiver.

All three monsters look at her with mixed emotions. Erica is on the edge of a breakdown.

Frisk looks briefly at one of them.

_Will I get butterflies every time?_

Her hair is a disarray, her clothes disheveled, her feet covered by socks only.

Frisk smiles respectfully, while contemplating whether or not it is appropriate to bow in monster culture. Her hands clasp behind her back instead and she nods slowly.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt. Forgive me.” She addresses Erica next.

“My red dress got ruined, so I’m only looking for one I can borrow…”

The human inhales deeply and gives her a curt smile before turning.

“But I’ll just go shopping. See you later.”

A deep voice stops her from going up the stairs again, and the butterflies in her stomach goes absolutely crazy.

“good ta see ya up ‘n ‘round sweetheart.”

She gulps down her saliva. Her body trembles for a treacherous moment, but she quickly forces it under iron-clad control. Her feet are nailed to the ground, but her mind pleads for her to go.

“YOU KNOW THIS HUMAN?” booms from Papyrus.

Frisk makes herself turn to look at the sons of Wing Dings Gaster, fearful of insulting them.

“met ‘er at grillby’s. she’s da one who saved alphys.” His grin turns grateful and sexy at the same time. She doesn't know that was possible, and so quickly tries to remember how he did it for future reference.

“Hello again, _Sans_.” She says in a knowing voice, but if he’s surprised, he keeps it to himself. He takes a couple steps forward to stand just an arms-length from her. His ‘signature’ scent hits her hard.

Papyrus cuts in.

“HUMAN! DID YOU GET HOME SAFELY WITH YOUR GROCERIES?”

“Yes, I did, thank you for asking.”

 _Oh god how can I let myself fall for a Gaster? Not just_ a _Gaster! The heir to the fucking family. WHAT ARE YOU DOING? STOP-_

She holds out her hand for Sans to kiss, much like she took his hand the first time they met. Her mind is screaming at her to run away, however it’s simply too late: he’s already taken it.

Frisk doesn’t know what she expected. Maybe for him to gain lips magically.

As nature would have it, that’s not what happens. He presses his teeth to her very naked hand, sending pleasant waves of heat through her. She recognizes the feeling as magic and has to stop herself from laughing happily. Her smile blossoms into a genuine one despite herself.

“SANS! STOP ANNOYING THE HUMAN.”

“doesn’t look like she dislikes it ta me.”

The butterflies decide to do cartwheels. Can butterflies even do cartwheels?

Either way, Frisk’s can and they’re very energetic. She catches herself before she starts to flirt back. Unlike Tana, she isn’t one to be unnecessarily attracted to danger, but his entire demeanor attracts Frisk like a cursed magnet. Fighting valiantly to keep down a blush, she speaks up while taking her hand back hesitantly.

“It’s quite alright Mr. Papyrus, Sans here has been a flirt since we met, and he never even once formally introduced himself.”

Papyrus raises his brows. Brow _bones_.

“couldn’t bother ta. thought it didn’ matter anyway, figured ya got smart an’ skipped town,” he says with a strained smile.

“It’s gonna take a lot more than that to scare me, _sweetheart_ ,” she teases with a playful expression. Her hand almost gets up to push him lightly as well, but her self control hits at the last second.

_Dammit I keep forgetting who I’m talking to. I need to watch my mouth in the Gaster’s company, lest I offend him in any way. Can’t do any good if I’m dead._

For a moment there’s complete silence, but then it’s broken when the shortest skeleton begins chuckling whole-heartedly.

“when diddya figure it out?” He, of course, refers to how she learned of his name. First and last both.

“When I met,” she inclines her head toward the youngest of the brothers, “Papyrus earlier today. He helped me pick up my things when I dropped them like a total doof.”

_He’s going to ask me how in a second and when I struggle to make an excuse for researching mafias in the surrounding area, he’ll most likely have my skin. What do I tell?_

Sure enough, Sans is about to ask what his brother did to make her aware, but Erica, the angel, saves her without knowing so.

“Mr. _Gaster_ , can we please continue our informal business meeting?” she utters with an impatient voice and a clicking when her claws hit the counter, “I’m dying of worry.”

Everybody’s gazes fall upon Sans. It’s become clear that he’s more in charge than he lets on to Frisk, more the reason why she can’t afford to get too close to the devilishly charming skeleton.

Said monster’s gaze never once falters from Frisk’s eyes when he says with clear authority, “erica, there isn’t really anythin’ we can do fer now, that we’re not already doin’. let’s hope tonight goes well, yeah?”

Frisk dares not look away to make sure Erica is okay, instead she watches his eye lights with a quizzical expression. To out-right ask what will go down tonight is stupid and will ruin the small relationship she seems to have gained with the Gaster.

“ _Please_! There must be _something_ you can tell me!” Erica cries out, pattering from behind the counter to beside Sans, but standing a decent amount away from him.

“I need to get her back! She’s my _sister_!” On the last word her voice breaks.

And that was all Frisk’s heart needed to hear to break apart.

_Eerina is kidnapped just like Monster Kid and Tana? Oh god, I know how you feel…_

“Oh, Erica…” The human whispers when the bunny breaks down in front of them all. She has been strong for too long in favor of her son, but everyone breaks eventually. Frisk knows that better than most. The bunny’s fur becomes wet from her tears and her sobbing reminds Frisk too much of the helpless nights without anyone to confide in. The human closes her eyes for a second to calm herself and makes a rash decision. She takes the needed steps to reach Erica and hugs her tightly. The monster’s body tenses up under her touch, but it quickly relaxes. The sobbing becomes louder and much worse, now that she knows she can do it without being judged.

Then, very quietly, so no one but Erica hears, Frisk whispers comforting words in her droopy ears.

“I’ll find her for you, since they won’t. I think the same people that took Eerina kidnapped my sister too. I’m already planning how to get them back.”

The bunny takes in a sharp inhale before she squeezes Frisk.

They stand there for some time, letting her cry it out, Frisk whispering calming words.

It’s only because of her training to hide her feelings from Tana and their foster family that Frisk doesn’t break down as well. A lump has found its way to her throat, daring her to speak. She decides not to.

“Thank you, F-Frisk… I got a bit carried away there.” Erica mumbles after swallowing and letting go of the human. The two women both take a step back. Frisk swallows the lump before speaking.

“Misters, how long do you intend on staying?” She boldly asks. Sans is behind her and Papyrus to her right. She turns to Sans, but gives Papyrus a respectful look as well, so he doesn’t have a reason for feeling left out. The skeleton in front of her grabs her shoulder.

“ah, we two need ta speak before me 'n my bro leave sweetheart,” he gives her a flirty look, but Frisk isn’t fooled by his façade. He wants to talk serious business. Before she can nod, he adds, “alone,” which sends a shiver down her spine.

_I can’t decide if it’s a pleasant or an unpleasant one._

“We can chat in my room.”

 

The door to Frisk’s rented room in the inn closes softly. Sans explores her room which sets off alarms in her head.

_He could find the files to the case if he looks under the bed._

His hand, gloved, of course, slides over the open suitcase with clothing spread all over.

“I- ah… Didn’t exactly expects guests…” She hurries over to him and gently moves his hand away, while stuffing her things back inside the case, closing it immediately afterwards. The body of his looms over her, but neither of them say anything for a couple breaths. The bed becomes his target and he sit down. The bed underneath him makes creaking sounds because of his weight, but he either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care. Eye contact leads to breaking the silence.

“thank you,” he utters with a soft voice.

“For saving Alphys?”

“no. for savin’ erica.”

Frisk’s eyebrows raise in a questioning look.

“her sista eerina has been missin’ for some time now. i dunno whatcha said ta make her feel better, but ya helped her up from a dark place, that’s fer sure, sweetheart.” A handsome smile takes it rightful place on his face, which makes Frisk’s heart skip a beat. The room is warm and in its close confinements the scent of Sans spreads out. She doesn’t even remember sitting down beside him when she puts a hand on his leg.

“I just get what she’s feeling right now. She needed someone to relate, so she knew she wasn’t alone.”

“howddya know what she’s feelin’?”

At the question she faces away from him to distance herself, but he grabs her chin with his phalanges. Her eyes are forced to meet his when he pulls her face closer, the smell of him becoming that much stronger. It’s almost dizzying.

“when we met at grillby’s ya said ya were visitin’ family.”

“Yes, well… You took me by surprise and my guard was down.”

_Is it just me or did we get even closer?_

“who’s yer family? don’t try ta lie, i’ll see right through it.”

 At that moment she could’ve done many things. She could’ve kissed him and hoped it would distract him. Stand up and pretend to get a picture of Tana from her purse and get the gun out instead. Or, if she is truly mad, put her trust in this very dangerous mobster who smells awfully much like ketchup and booze and enjoys a good pun. Either one of these are better choices than the one she makes.

“I can’t tell you, Sans,” is the option she goes with, shooting him a defiant glare. To be honest she should be digging her grave instead.

Frisk realizes this as well shortly after the words leave her mouth, but it’s too late to back down. His eye lights disappear for a breath, but they return with a smug grin.

_Shit. I just pissed him off, didn’t I? I need to get away!_

“oh, ya will. i always get what i want, sweetheart,” he stands up, towering over her, to grab both her wrists in a firm grip, but not hard enough to hurt her.

“Sans Gaster. Let. Me. Go.” Her voice scathes, dripping with idle threats and fury.

He answers by pinning her down on the bed’s soft surface and growling menacingly. His eyes glint with mischievous intent.

“fine, then. tell me yer full name.”

That is even more out of the question, since he might recognize it and get the wrong impression.

“Don’t have one. Orphaned.” His gaze turns a bit softer.

“who are ya lookin’ fer? last chance.”

She frowns and shakes her head.

“Not saying. I’m allowed to have secrets, you know?”

He apparently isn’t having any of it, point proven when he holds both wrists with one hand, while the other finds its way to her cheek, where it strokes with gently motions.

_Okay forget the damn butterflies, what the hell is this sparking heat he gives me?_

His face gets closer and closer, while Frisk’s mind tries to grasp the situation. It doesn’t succeed.

“wrong answer.”

And then he places his smooth teeth on her lips in a kiss. Her mind fights for some kind of control, but the only bit it gains is when Frisk kisses back. His teeth spread, her lips doing the same on instinct, when his tongue wants entrance. She's too busy to question how a skeleton has a tongue. It creates a buzzing feeling in her mouth, but she doesn’t mind it at all. A groan leaves her, and he stops the kiss shortly after by withdrawing enough to get eye contact. Frisk doesn’t want to stop, but, unfortunately, she doesn’t hide it very well. He uses this against her.

“tell me who ya followed inta da city,” he whispers with great demand, gripping her wrists a bit harder. She’s becoming light-headed from the situation, especially when he bites down on her lower lip playfully.

“we both know ya don’t want ta get involved in mafia business. Othawise ya wouldn’t have left the bar when i told ya ta. do ya personally consider fucking the heir to the leadin’ mafia gettin’ involved 'n our business?”

He licks her lips and the buzzing hits the sensitive nerves there, sending jolts of pleasure to her brain. A moan leaves her unwillingly.

“Why… do you… want to know?” she gasps in between heated kisses, getting more and more turned on, but also hating herself equally so.

_I thought I had more self control than this!_

His free hand moves down to her buttoned-up shirt, carelessly opening the buttons or tearing them out.

“Wait! Sans don’t-“ she tries, when she realizes he won’t stop. He isn’t kidding about having sex with her unless she tells him what he wants. He stops for a moment to look into her sparkling eyes with an expectant expression chiseled on his face. She inhales sharply, suddenly hit by a flare of anger.

“Why can’t you just take no for an answer!” she exclaims, wriggling to get out of his grip, but it gets her nowhere. He has trapped her for good.

He doesn’t acknowledge her outburst with anything. He just forces off her shirt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What a cliffhanger! The next update might be a while, since I have some exams coming up this week.


	6. The Truly Wild Nature of a Buttercup

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not that anyone cares, but sorry for the wait.  
> Also – Sorry that it's short and slow. The next chapter will bring much more action.

Red light shines through her closed eyelids. Frisk fights for some kind of control over her feelings, but it becomes harder and harder when his tongue travels across her collar bone and further down between her cleavage. Several moans leave her, but she doesn’t pay them any mind. The buzz starts to fill her entire being and fighting against it with no way to move is like going up against a tornado with nothing to keep her grounded. The whirlwind inside makes her dizzy and it’s hard to focus on anything beside his touch. His tongue ceases to move, giving her a much-needed break, she uses to come up with her next move.

_I need to focus! I need a damned plan, if I don’t want to risk endangering me and Tana in more mafia affairs._

Suddenly an idea hits like lightning from a clear sky, making her open her eyes abruptly.

_Undyne and Alphys aren’t from the Gaster family, they’re Dreemurrs._

She’s got a plan.

He looks her in the eyes, searching for any indication at all that she’s ready to spill the beans. By now the tickling feeling in her stomach is gone, replaced by pure determination coursing through her blood with a tingling not totally unlike that of magic.

“How do you think Erica would react if I cried for help? I did just comfort her, and I saved Alphys’ life yesterday. Undyne might get a bit pissy if I’m hurt... Hypothetically, wouldn’t that create tension between you and your allies?” She asks with an innocent look, but not bothering to mask her smug tone of voice.

His expressions are hard to read, making Frisk believe that he’s at least as trained in controlling his body language as she is. Then, the lights in his eyes goes out, which makes the hairs on her neck rise.

 _Maybe I misjudged him? He seems to be in a situation where the peace with the Dreemurr family is important, but if it_ isn’t, _I may have just signed my death warrant._

A growl resonates from within him and he leans closer and closer, until there’s almost no space between them.

“was that a threat, buttacup?” Frisk thinks she can hear some crackling amusement in his tone, but it’s most likely just delusion.

Truth be told, the human has no grasp on what type of character Sans is. He confuses her with mixed signals, one moment threatening her into leaving and the next kissing her. Obviously, he doesn’t want her to meddle in the criminal affairs of theirs, but he _does_ want something. In reality the skeleton is a tough cookie to crack. Honestly Frisk can’t seem to understand why he flirts so outrageously with an unknown human. She enjoys it too much as well, which makes her more than a little annoyed. If only he wasn’t living this lifestyle, she might have been able to pursue a relationship with him. Distancing herself becomes tougher and tougher by every interaction.

She doesn’t react in the slightest on the intimate position he settles them into, instead her eyes crinkle upwards around the edges when she smiles sweetly back at the terrifying mobster.

“It was only a hypothetical question,” his eye lights come back when she smiles, “but you still haven’t told me, what you came here to tell.” A long silence follows.

His body tenses up above her and another growl escapes when he falls back from her. The strong grip, that previously held her wrists, is now gone. A curious look blossoms on his face.

“howddya figure i have anythin’ ta tell?”

His tall figure stands before her when she sits upright. His arms are crossed in make-believe irritation, eyebrows knitted together in a fake glare, but his never-stopping-to-exist grin is curling upwards. How that didn’t make him mad exceeds her mind, but nonetheless she decides to humor him, figuring he most likely will lose any little patience he has left with her if she refuses to answer question.

“Your seducing posture back downstairs didn’t fool me. Your foot kept tapping on the floor, but it wasn’t loud enough to hear on the carpet,” she decides against standing up, as it will only serve to aggravate him. Instead her fingers itch with the longing of touching his bones, but she keeps herself in check.

Ugh, nevermind, her control breaks for the umpteenth time today, for she reaches out to grab the hand resting on his arm. He looks taken aback by this but doesn’t stop her when she pulls it down to her eye-level. He’s wearing his usual gloves, but they don’t have a shiny ‘G’ engraved on them. They’re just plain black leather.

She feels the expensive material with careful touches and asks softly, “what does your bones feel like?”

Their gazes lock, and for a moment it looks as if he might actually let her find out. But then he speaks up and ruins the moment.

“eye fer ‘n eye.”

His hand stays in the air briefly when she lets it go, before he takes it back to cross his arms again. She sighs exasperated.

“that’s what i thought,” he says with a satisfied look on his face. Frisk stands up to walk over to her purse. She doesn’t reach into it, waiting for him to continue.

When he takes the hint he says, “i need ya ta stay ‘nside, business goin’ down tonight.”

“So, I can’t go to Grillby’s?”

“it’d be better if ya just didn’t go outside da inn fer now, sweetheart.”

She fakes disappointment. No matter what he’s brewing in his magical mafia pot of trouble it won’t keep her away from her plans. Tana’s life is on the line, and, for her, hesitation isn’t an option. Not anymore. Not after waiting an entire week without doing anything except worrying.

_I’m disgusted by myself. Tana might be tortured this exact moment, but all I did was sit on my ass for 7 valuable days._

“I don’t suppose you’ll tell me why?”

“i don’t s’pose you’ll tell me why yer’re here?”

“Yeah, I think we’ve hit a wall.”

The silence stretches out for a half dozen breaths. Sans walks over to trap her in between his arms, when he reaches out to rest his hands upon the wall, making her back away. His eye lights twinkle with amusement.

“actually, _you_ ’ve hit a wall, buttacup.” She smiles, caught by surprise.

“we’ll meet at grillby’s tomorrow?” He cocks his head, making it a question.

“Sure, -”

_If I’m not too busy finding Tay or getting tortured by Dominic Alonso. Hopefully today goes well, though._

“-let me walk with you downstairs. I need to borrow that dress from Erica.”

“sure thing sweetheart.”

 

* * *

 

Tana’s files hold much information on the Gasters.

Afterall, they _are_ the strongest and biggest monster mafia, only tied with their sister mafia, the Dreemurrs.

There’s Wing Dings Gaster, the Godfather, nicknamed Wingdings.

Sans Gaster, his heir and probably most dangerous.

And Papyrus Gaster, second son, along with being an exceptionally good sniper.

And yet, all three are clouded in a fog of mystery to Frisk, still.

Los Amparadores was founded on fellow hatred and racism, but their family, on the other hand, was created as a move of retaliation and protection. Truly, Frisk hasn’t met many monsters beside those here in New Ebott, but her fair share occasionally came through Greenmay City. The first time she caught sight of one was when she was on a case with Tana, ordered by Thomas, regarding some rivals entering Marchetti territory, selling the worst kind of drug. The intruders were human, although Frisk has long forgotten the family name.

A group of monsters were sent from wherever to follow the foreign mob and eventually stop their operative, but Frisk and Tana weren’t aware of them at that point of time.

When they infiltrated the building which the humans were inhabiting temporarily, to scope out a rough layout and possible exits, the inside went into a complete chaos. The siblings are well-known for their stealth and secrecy, but, clearly, they were the only ones caring for such things. Bullets went flying, screams erupted, glass shattered. Needless to say, the rivals were taken care off before either of the girls could even try to request backup from their employer. They split up for a short moment, to make sure the drugs in the building got disposed of, but on her way out, Frisk heard a groan in agony; it was a creature looking much alike a raven, except it was much, much bigger and shinier. His name was, creatively enough, Raven. The bird was covered in dust and blood, the latter most likely from his human victims, when her eyes befell him. The left wing had a large wound, which she had to bandage.

Some days later, when he had recovered, his buddies came to get him home and thank Frisk for looking after him.

That was the first time she met a monster. It was also the first time she heard of New Ebott and Wing Dings Gaster. Him and his sons are loved by all monsters, even those that aren’t under their protection. Enough so, that Raven and his associates happily compared the sisters to them. Tana was flattered, but Frisk couldn’t quite decide. The mobster life was exactly what she dreamt of getting _away_ from, she didn’t need anyone telling her she was fit for that kind of lifestyle she so deeply despised.

“ _The way you didn’t even think twice about helping someone in need reminds me of W.D Gaster’s son Papyrus,”_ he had said, _“but carefully deciding whether or not to trust me in your home? That was all Sans. Actually, you remind me of him the most._ ”

Frisk has also compared the bird to something, inspired by sulky thoughts, on multiple occasions whenever she remembered.

But it was hardly his fault, to be honest. After all, how could he know she was sensitive about the subject?

It’s so many cases ago, that most details have been wiped from memory. She does remember, however, that Thomas ended up sending a spy inside the humans’ mob, to ensure no plans to invade the Marchetti’s area would ever come up again, and also that the spy was a woman with a pet rooster, which Tana would occasionally babysit…

At times human minds will hold onto random facts. Don’t ask.

Just why the memory comes up in Frisk’s mind is unclear, but it does so nonetheless. Something about the situation triggers her to remember.

Perhaps it’s the bar she’s currently making her way towards, maybe it’s the knot in her stomach that won’t go away or, alternatively, it’s simply because of the fact that she can’t seem to get her thoughts under control. The whirlwind has become a habit of hers ever since Tana disappeared. In this very moment the feeling of not knowing what will come encompasses her being, but it hasn’t revised into despair yet.

Persistent hopeless mindsets happen seldom to the woman, but when they do, they rot away at her very core. It’s almost as if her body is allergic to the very thought of giving up. Frisk’s sister’s wellbeing means a lot – even though you’ll never hear Frisk admit such a thing to the sister. That is the way of sisterhood.

The Golden Bull is a half dozen blocks away from the Ebottian River, a nice distance from Snowdin, but also quite a bit away from the heart of The Ruins. The border that marks the end of human territory and beginning of the monsters’ area is shown by a large river that cuts right between the two districts. The color of it is almost a greyish black, even on the sunniest of days, but the bridges connecting the opposite sides are made up of yellow bricks. The Border is populated, mostly, by pigeons and ducks, since there’s no buildings whatsoever for two whole miles on either side. Instead, the area has become some sort of park, without actually being one, with grass, trees starting to bloom and clutters of different flowers enjoying the warming weather of springtime. There are decorative timber benches here and there, but it’s an unspoken rule not to waste unnecessary time in The Border. The beauty of it can easily make one forget that it’s in clear eye sight and should you sit down to relax, you may very well get shot down by the opposing mafia’s sentries, carefully hidden and stationed in buildings or camouflaged shelters for that very purpose. Really, The Border can be compared to the poisonous flower, buttercup, without any hesitation or message lost. At first sight it seems beautiful, attractive to the eye, but upon further investigation its toxic nature will be sure to kill anyone stupid enough to intake too much of it.

_I guess one can use the same comparison between the dangerous mobster life and the seemingly innocent flower._

Brown boots _click-clack_ on the bricks when Frisk walks over one of the many bridges connecting the riverbanks. Humans can mostly pass through without any problems or questions asked, but monsters are strictly prohibited from crossing. The flow of rushing water and the flutter of bird wings sound in the park. Mr. Baklavas had been provident enough to warn her against staying, standing still or walking in a straight line for too long. Luckily, the paths curve a lot, designed particularly for safer passing. Frisk can’t help but be intrigued by the wild nature of The Border. Enticing: the closest word to describing it to its fullest. Different types of trees stand tall and broad, casting mysterious shadows, just not enough to give cover.

But of course in the cover of darkness everything seems to create ominous shadows. The back of Frisk’s mind advices against of her night-time investigations, especially after getting so little sleep, to say nothing of almost getting killed. Whatever, it has said the same over and over since the sisters got employed the first time, anyway. A breeze comes through the park and misplaces some tufts from her hairdo.

_I’m smart enough to get through this unscathed. Or, well, at least without deadly consequences. If I get backed into a corner, I can always call Thomas for help. He’ll absolutely be furious with Tay for picking a case tied to New Ebott, but I’m willing to bet my ass that he’d fight with nail and tooth to get his beloved favorite back._

Truth be told, Frisk has always had to work twice as hard as her sister to please him and even though hard work isn’t precisely a bad childhood trauma, it does bother her slightly.

The sound of boots hitting the ground has less time gaps in between now, since her foul mood makes her haste to get this case over with. Soft light reaches her walking figure, lit up by street lights, when the yellow bricks underneath her turn into asphalt.

To get to her destination a cab would be dearly appreciated, but, her wallet considered, it’s not an option. She misses the days where Thomas’ people would drive her and Tana wherever they wanted, be it inside the borders of the city. Or at least her feet miss it.

Ignorant people will think the city to be sleeping. It _is_ pretty quiet after all.

But that is far from the truth. The darkness marks the beginning of illegal activities. Frisk knows this, because it isn’t unusual for her to get entangled in such activities, even though she deeply hates it. The only people sleeping now are those smart enough to ignore the dark dealings of New Ebott.

It takes some time for the lady to walk all the way to The Golden Bull. The soft frills from the dress she has borrowed from Erica clashes against her bare legs every time she takes a step. On the bunny it goes down to her mid-thighs, but, the human being a bit smaller, it reaches all the way down to below Frisk’s knees. Fortunately, it’s a green, velvet wrap dress, able to be tied at her left side, so it doesn’t look so big on her. Golden earrings and a matching necklace, Tana bought her some Christmases ago, decorate her, as to hide the fact that her dress is some sizes too large.

The further she walks into The Ruins the more people are on the street. Her coat covers up her body to protect her from the cold of the night.

She sees it. The sign.

‘ _The Golden Bull_ ’

The music has yet to start, but the chatter of people can be heard from outside the entrance. Frisk readies herself with a deep breath before she goes inside.

The bar is bigger and fancier than Grillby’s and has many more customers, probably because there isn’t a lot of places to hang out at night in The Ruins. She scopes out the place fairly quickly and locates a group of men with expensive looking suits. They’re 5 in total, but Frisk realizes one of them is actually a woman with short, dark hair in a ponytail.

_Is that Mariana Alonso? Dominic’s younger sister?_

_No, she can’t be. Mr. Baklavas said Mariana bleaches her hair._

Now that her targets have been spotted, she opens up her coat to reveal her dress before walking towards the bar. She’s passing by a table when she yelps and starts to fall. Two steady hands catch her before she can hit the ground.

“Gotcha!” Says the man who just saved her from colliding with the hard floor. Frisk lets out a relieved sigh and looks up at him. His nose is pretty big and crooked, as if it has been broken a couple times too many. Other than that, his features are moderately handsome, with sharp cheekbones and jaw, along with the same intellectual eyes Frisk knows to belong to clever-minded people, such as heirs to human mafias. Upon further investigation she finds that he has a beauty mark above one of his bushy eyebrows.

 _Actually, before the night is over,_ I _will be the one to catch_ you.

He helps her get her balance back with strong hands holding her arms.

His hair is dark and wavy, coming down a bit above his shoulders, and makes Frisk slightly jealous to see it being healthier and prettier than her own.

“Oh, I’m such a klutz! Thank you so much for catching me.” She smiles gratefully and bats her eyelashes at him. He doesn’t hesitate to shoot back a perfect smile.

"Well, well, well, what's a lady like you doing here all on her own?" He asks.

“I was waiting for my friends outside, but the cold became unbearable! I thought, perhaps, I should go inside and get a drink while I wait,” she explains. He eyes her down with an appreciative expression, while the rest of his group remains silent. The woman eyes Frisk as well, but not with the same interested look as Dominic. Her eyes are questioning and, dare Frisk say, slightly worried? Frisk chalks it up to be because of her sudden fall.

“Why don’t you wait with us, mi amor? Beauty like you shouldn’t be alone.”

He only asks to appear polite, she knows it isn't a suggestion. His grip on her became possessive the second she looked at the rest of the room. A good and a bad sign.

_This means I have his attention, but also that I’ll have a hell of a time trying to get away._

The older man beside Dominic stands up to steal a chair from another table, making the occupant firstly irritated and then scared. Soon after Frisk has a chair placed next to her target. Her face gets a thankful look when she sits down.

“Can’t say no to good company, can I now?” She laughs. His grip on her has been replaced by an arm around her shoulders.

_Trapped._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you like the story? I'd like to know!  
> I use much time on my fanfic, just like any other writer out there, so feedback is always welcome and appreciated.


	7. Careful What You Wish For

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I always have to say something before and after a chapter, but currently I don't know what.  
> So; here's an apology for Sans' lack of puns. He's just a bit *TIED* up at the moment, and puns aren't exactly his strong *SUIT* when he's fighting rivals.  
> They're not worthy of his jokes.

* * *

Turns out, Dominic isn’t bad company at all to a normal lady. He’s humorous and witty, chatty and attentive and has a clever mind, which seems like it’s always playing chess. He very well might be, considering his every move has a purpose or hidden motive behind it.

And _frankly_ , it’s making Frisk more annoyed than when she had to walk on eggshells around her foster family, back at home. She hates this type of person, even more so, if she can’t figure out what they want or how much they know. The underboss of Los Amparadores is certainly intelligent, but would it hurt not to show it off every damn second? He keeps bragging about how good he is at discovering spies, strategizing, and, once, when he started running out of topics, he talked about how fast he solved a rubrics cube.

A. Rubrics. Cube.

Frisk is lost in her annoyance, not hearing what he asks her. All conservation long she pretends to listen to what he says, but it just becomes harder and harder when she realizes he won’t stop bragging. Her expressions don’t falter once though, she keeps her sweet smile plastered on her face and changes the emotion when the situation needs it.

“Felicia?”

_Shit. What did he say?_

She doesn’t hesitate or panic, Dominic’s presence is so unlike that of Sans, and she’s used to better-knowing people like him, Thomas is like that.

Frisk just puts a hand on his thigh and says with a laugh, “sorry, I was just admiring you.”

He grins at that and leans loser to her.

In situations like these, flattery will get you far, but only so much. If used too many times after another, it’ll become too suspicious or give the impressions that she’s a suck-up.

 “ _I_ should be the one admiring _you_ , beautiful,” he says while stroking her jaw. She gasps, just like when Sans touched her earlier, and bites down on her lip, as if she knows she just got caught with her hands in the cookie jar. She squirms ever so slightly in faked delight under his touch, when his other hand travels up her thigh. Exactly how he wants her to react.

_This is going to be a long night…_

* * *

 

The band isn’t as good as the one led by the singing siren from the night before. Actually, Frisk can’t help but compare Snowdin and the Ruins to each other. She isn’t even a fair judge, since she knows the Alonso family kidnapped her sister and those innocent monsters. To be honest the Ruins is lacking in points, in her opinion, because the inhabitants are-

_Fucking pieces of shits, degrading my sister like that!_

Yes. That. But on the flip-side Dominic seems to respect the civilians in the bar, just like they respect him in return. Despite his know-it-all attitude he can be a nice and decent guy if he wants to.

The only other woman at their table is called Emilia. Frisk can’t figure her out, and it becomes even worse when she learns of her relationship with Mariana Alonsos twin brother, Adrian.

Emmanuel’s second son is so different from the woman in front of Frisk, that she just can’t picture them together. Adrian is known for being self-centered, pompous and virtuous, but Emilia doesn’t seem like that at all. The live music isn’t of interest to her, she stays silent rather than talking when it’s unnecessary and, lastly, she twitches her eyebrows ever so slightly when Dominic mentions his achievements.

_Maybe he only dates her because of her looks? She has curves all the right places, full lips and beautiful cream-like skin, it’d be hard not to fall for her._

Every time Frisk talks to her, the woman just tilts her head and answers shortly. Emilia isn’t the only one at their table who doesn’t like to take part in conversation. The older man who got Frisk a chair, Mr. Smiley, as she likes to call him mentally, cares only for keeping an eye out for trouble, which means getting information out of Dominic will be a lot harder. The two other men at the table down drinks like there’s no tomorrow, Dominic joining them eagerly, but no matter how much she tries to persuade Mr. Smiley to let loose, he just won’t budge.

 _Stubborn as a mule,_ she thinks bitterly, with complicated planning taking place in her mind. If she can’t get rid of the hawk and the weird girlfriend, her entire trip will be fruitless!

Frustration ensues.

_Maybe I just need to get some water into my system. Dominic isn’t the only one throwing back drinks…_

_I can take a small pee-break._

At the thought her bladder squeezes unpleasantly. It was decided long before she even acknowledged it in her thoughts.

She excuses herself before she patters over to the ladies’ bathroom, maneuvering through the crowd with agility. Nobody pays her any mind.

Once inside she hurries into one of the stalls to relieve herself.

 _I haven’t been to the bathroom in 24 hours. This is madness! Why couldn’t she have gone missing in a town where it’s_ normal _to have toilets?_

Her body starts to tremble, and her breathing becomes uneven, when she flushes. The adrenaline left her the moment she walked into the restroom and now she experiences the occasional mid-mission anxiety, that sometimes happens when Thomas sends her on particularly important or dangerous missions without backup; she’ll need to take a breather to calm her nerves or collect her mind before proceeding. It can be done in various ways: by closing her eyes and counting to ten, stretching and doing a small exercise or forcing her breathing to become steady while focusing on the air in her lungs. Really, it depends on the situation she’s in.

Now that Frisk has some time in the isolated world of the bathroom stall, she sits down on the cold toilet board, closing her eyes. Air gets cut off when she holds her breath to get her heartbeat to slow down, and her body shakes slightly less when she stretches out her arms above her. After her arms, she stretches out her legs, so they almost touch the door, keeping her balance by holding both hands on a wall. Only when a full minute has passed does she breathe in again, before standing up and shaking her entire body a half dozen times. She feels better now, so she opens up the stall door to wash her hands and drink some water. Refreshing coolness coats the inside of her mouth and starts to crawl down her throat when she swallows. The bad smell of public bathroom reaches her nose, making it scrunch up in disgust when she breathes through it.

_Okay, I’m fine. I should get back._

Before she takes her leave, she investigates the human-empty bathroom for any windows she might use for an escape later, but, much to her dismay, there isn’t a single one in sight. Probably the reason why the room smells so bad. Already hit with a surge of negativity, another unsatisfied thought appears in her mind.

_It’s been an hour and I haven’t gotten even the shadow of leads from Dominic and his group!_

She grumbles something unladylike under her breath as her feet take her back out to the bar area.

 

* * *

 

His breath stinks of spirits, and his rough hands wander more and more. It’s been a bit over two hours since Frisk stepped out of the bathroom stall, refreshed by her little break. For every passing moment she wishes herself further and further away from the man beside her, preferably back at Grillby’s with Sans near.

_“Yeah, I think we’ve hit a wall.”_

_“actually,_ you’ve _hit a wall, buttacup. we’ll meet at grillby’s tomorrow?”_

Frisk looks back at their conversation with want. Oh, what she wouldn’t do to be with Sans right now. She grew tired of Dominic long before he got drunk, but she isn’t going to leave before she gets just a tiny hint of where her sister might be kept. Her concentration falls upon Mr. Smiley, whom gets signaled by a person standing near the door, and he quickly asks Dominic for permission to leave before walking over there. Suddenly Emilia grows concerned, standing up as well.

“I will go check if everything is okay, Mr. Alonso.” She says while eyeing the two people talking in a heated conversation by the door. The drunk man nods as she walks off, giving Frisk the opening she needs.

“Dominic?” He turns to look at her with a disoriented gaze. He hums questioningly.

“Truth is, I didn’t come here because I was waiting for my friends…” She sighs in despair and cups his cheek, when a confused expression blossoms on his face.

“It’s my friend…” _close your eyes, inhale with a worried look,_ “she’s… d-dead…”

The man sobers a little at that, but not more than necessary. His confused look turns sympathetic.

“Mi aMada, I’m so sorry…” He whispers. Frisk links her arms around his neck and leans her head upon his chest.

“She was murdered some days ago… by a Gaster.” He gasps and grabs her chin to force her to look into his eyes.

“Where was this?” He says seriously.

“She was walking through the Border when it happened.”

“Those disgusting monsters will know pain far greater than any man has lived through!” Frisk nods in agreement but reaches out to hold his face in a gentle grip.

“I’ve always wanted to see them get what they deserve... But they can’t be caged up, it’s simply far too dangerous!” He laughs bitterly.

“Ha! No monster is stronger or smarter than me. We always keep our captives under tight security. You should _see_ the technology we bought to keep those bitches in place.”

_Oh, trust me, I’d love to. Maybe I could lock you inside._

She scoffs in disbelief.

“Seriously? No place could hold a Gaster. It’d have to be something near a castle.”

He gets a smug look and says, “trust me, it is.” Brown eyes widen in shock and excitement.

“Could you show me sometime?”

Dominic is about to answer, but a look towards the entrance makes him pull her into his lap first. The man’s face is entirely blank all of a sudden, which sets off alarm clocks in Frisk’s mind.

_Something is wrong!_

The music isn’t loud enough to muffle the distressed voices from the door anymore. He encircles her with strong arms, keeping her against him. The trapped human feels worry course through her in unpleasant waves.

“Gordon, report!” Dominic yells and everyone turns to look at him. The music stops without notice, then the musicians make their hasty way off the stage.

She keeps up her charade of collected calmness, but inside her mind screams at her to run.

 _Frisky,_ do _something! Run, hide, get a gun,_ anything _!_

Since her mind is working for once and giving her perfectly good advice, Frisk, of course, _has_ to ignore it. Like a complete idiot.

_If I leave, he won’t be able to take me to their monster captives. If I’m lucky they keep Tana there._

“Sir, some men have just reported a monster sighting close to here.” His voice is low and serious. Frisk’s back gets layered in cold sweat. The only thing she can think of is that she can’t leave now. Not when she’s _this_ close to finding her sister.

“Felicia, mi amada, perhaps you should-“

And then, chaos.

Too many people to count pour in from the entrance and the door behind the bar, knocking unaware humans down in their path. They surprise Dominic enough for Frisk to push away and grab her bag when he loosens his grip in awe. He turns and tries to catch her, but in the very same moment magic fills the air and bullets fire.

“DON’T LET THEM HIT THE CIVILIANS!” He screams to his people, shocking Frisk a bit. A blue spear flies close to her head, so she ducks under a table.

_This is bad. Really, really bad._

Just as the thought presents itself, it becomes many times worse. The invaders aren’t humans. They’re all monsters from either the Dreemurr or Gaster family.

_Did I say bad? I’m sorry, I actually meant that this is a fucking nightmare. And there are no Marchettis to save me all the way down in Ebott._

Most of Dominic’s goons are currently fighting the monsters, so if she wants to escape, now is the best time. Her eyes lock on the door behind the bar she spotted when she walked into the establishment some hours ago, and she half crawls-half runs over there. In all the chaos Frisk never even remembered what Sans told her, but now it hits her like a truck.

_“i need ya ta stay ‘nside, business goin’ down tonight.”_

_“So, I can’t go to Grillby’s?”_

_“it’d be better if ya just didn’t go outside da inn fer now, sweetheart”_

“Ah!”

Someone pulls at her hair to put her to a stop, before tackling her down onto the floor.

She lies on her back, looking into the grey, cold eyes of Mr. Smiley. Well, technically, his name is Gordon.

“And where do you think _you’re_ going?” The voice drips with venom and confirmed suspicion.

“Heh… We can talk about this, right?” She jokes, grasping at straws in her mind for a solution. She doesn’t find any, so she opts for getting her gun from the purse and aiming it at him. He doesn't look fazed at all.

“Dominic wants you alive, but accidents do happen,” is his answer, and before long, her gun is in _his_ hand? How? Oh, what an unlucky situation she finds herself in. He sits atop her, with a wicked smile plastered on his ugly face. Since she figures she’ll die anyway, Frisk decides to spit on his face to maintain some honor and, though she doesn’t want to admit it, out of spite. A bad decision, really. He squints his eyes in anger and aims _Frisk’s own gun_ at her stomach, a recipe for a slow and painful death.

“Don’t!” She squeaks, trying to get out of his grip, but his answer is merely a sinister laugh while he winks.

Then he pulls the trigger. Frisk screams.

But no pain follows… actually, no bullet follows either. Both humans exchange confused looks.

Then Gordon becomes impaled by a white, long and sharp… _bone_? encompassed in red blood. Said liquid splutters all over her body and face, so she hurries to throw the dead man off of her. Adrenaline courses through her blood, but something else courses through it as well.

 _Determination? Can it even_ do _that?_

_And is that… The smell of ketchup and spirits?_

She looks around to orient herself but suddenly someone slips an arm around her waist and forces her all the way behind the mahogany bar. She tries to get free by struggling and squirming, but to no avail. The person sits her against the bar with leather gloves gripping her arms tightly.

“are ya outta yer damn mind?!” Sans hisses, with a very angry look on his face. He doesn’t wait for her to answer, instead he starts to wipe the warm blood off her face with a purple handkerchief with fast movements.

_I’ve never been happier in my life to see someone!_

Tears fill her eyes, the second she realizes what a mess she has gotten into. She can’t get any more information out of the Alonso family, since Dominic might get the wrong idea with her showing up the same night as his rivals. The Gasters and Dreemurrs will most likely kill her for intervening with their affairs. Somehow, though, those thoughts evaporate when she forces the water in her chocolate eyes to disappear to collect herself.

_He’s actually here! How did he know-_

_He didn’t. He didn’t come for me, did he?_

_This is just the reason why the streets were unsafe tonight._

Looking her over, he says with an hurried tone of voice “ya need ta get outta here, frisk! cut-throat dom is here!”

_Cut-throat Dom? Yikes what a nick, Dominic. Hah, that rhymed._

She facepalms.

 _Well I’m_ certainly _glad some part of me is having fun._

“I was trying to escape, when that old guy tackled me! He got my gun and-“

“-and it didn’ have any bullets?” He finishes.

Her entire body freezes on the spot when he says that, wondering how he knew. His eyelights sparkle knowingly.

“i took ‘em out, sweetheart. now let’s get ya ta safety.”

With a grim expression he looks over the bar and curses. Too fast for Frisk to react, he pushes her down on the floor to shield her from the incoming projectile.

_Crash!_

A chair hits the shelves with bottles upon bottles of alcohol above them, all breaking on impact from the chair or the floor. Pieces of glass, sticky liquid and wood fall down on them, but Sans takes most of the impact. She gasps for air because he knocked it all out of her lungs.

“ah… sorry ‘bout that,” says the skeleton. His face is right above hers, with worried eyes looking down at the shocked woman. Her heart skips a beat.

_He’s a Gaster. It won’t ever happen between us, Frisky._

Tanned arms push him gently away so she can crouch. He shoves most of the mess away, to create a clear way to the exit.

“when ya get inta da kitchen, go out through da personnel door, an' don’t look back before ya are ‘n snowd’n, alright?” The monster stops halfway there to say this. Frisk nods in understanding before she places a gentle kiss on his cheek, saying “don’t hold anything back. Those bitches deserve what’s coming their way.”

Then she bolts for the exit, with Sans covering her back.

A faraway table. Eye contact between two humans. Frisk’s entire plan to find Tana ruined.

 

* * *

 

 

Her scattering feet don’t make even the smallest of sounds on the pavement, but her breathing becomes more frantic by the second. It feels like her bag is heavier than her own body, but she won’t throw it away in the Ruins. It's far too valuable for that. Her brown boots, her _favorite_ , were lost when she had to take them off to minimalize the noise her escape would make.

_Why does everything I emotionally attach to disappear? That’s hardly fair!_

It’s not that far from the Border to where she’s running currently. At least she hopes so, because the entire district feels like a labyrinth to her stranger eyes. When she runs around a corner, a wall collides with her. Said wall has two brown eyes, with a beauty mark over one eyebrow-

 _Oh, wait, that’s not a wall at all_!

“Dominic?” She tries to say, but it comes out strangled. The man looks at her with wicked satisfaction.

“Felicia. I can’t begin to say how delighted I am to see you again.”

 

* * *

 

The young human lady sits atop a modest singular bed in a room, long forgotten before she came to occupy it. There are no windows – or, well, not any that isn’t boarded off – probably to prevent her from escaping to the outside world. Not that she has anywhere to run off to, mind you; she doesn’t doubt for one second that mobsters will be on her tail the second she just breathes the wrong way.

The wooden flooring makes for terrible stealth, since she can’t take a single step without the floorboards creaking in warning. She’s tried to find any possible places on it that will keep quiet of such noises, but to no avail. For 11 days, or, at least she thinks it has been that long, she has been in this room without finding anything she can use to her advantage to escape. Nothing at all.

Besides the bed there’s a dresser with a mirror above it, but that’s really all there is to the space. Three times a day she gets to go to a bathroom, where one of those times can be used to shower, but no matter how much water rinses her body, the woman still feels dirty.

Chara. It’s his fault. Him and his cold-blooded personality.

The human and her became acquainted the first time she woke up in the foreign spare bedroom, when he introduced himself as Chara, the adopted son of Toriel- and Asgore Dreemurr. Actually, his parents and his brother are quite nice and reminds the kidnapped human of her own parents.

Sharp pain erupts in the human’s finger when she bites too much of her nail off. She can pretty much hear her sister berating her, _“How many times do I have to tell you to stop that? It’s a bad habit!”_ earning a sad chuckle encompassed with missing.

Then, her head shoots up at the unexpected turning of a lock on her door. Well, not _her_ door, but still, she has gained some possessiveness from being trapped there for almost two weeks. Chara pushes open the big slab of wood, wearing a stiff suit and an even stiffer smile.

“My father and his guest wish to speak with you in his office.” He says while walking over to yank her from the bed. They make eye contact, but in the dim lightning of the room, it’s near impossible to make out the red color of his eyes.

_But they’re red. I know they are._

No one speaks a word when the young Dreemurr drags the prisoner down the hallways of wherever they decided to bring her. The building looks new and expensive, though. That is, if you’re willing to overlook the occasional dusty room and locked door.

The office is just as magnificent as Thomas’; it’s giant, filled to the brim with bookcases, smells faintly of dust and has the signature desk facing the entrance, and, honestly, it’s the only room she finds herself taking a liking to in the whole house. At the desk are placed three monster sized chairs made of metal but padded with… Well, she doesn’t know. She wants to say velvet, but when she sat down on it the first time, it felt twice as comfortable as any velvet she has ever worn. Magical velvet? Maybe.

Two monsters await her in this office: Wing Dings Gaster and Asgore Dreemurr.

_Oh God! What in the world do they want with me? Did they figure out who I am?_

The skeleton is truly an intimidating sight; two cracks adorn his skull, one going from his right eye and up, the other from his left eye and down. The crack on his right eye forces it to be half-closed for all eternity, but the left one is what really makes a shiver run down her spine.

_His eye lights are like the reflecting light on a knife’s blade. Does that even make sense?_

No, it doesn’t.

And then there’s his coat: it’s darker than anything humanly possible. She chalks it up to magic.

“SiT dOwN, hUmAn.” He speaks, and his voice is worse than Papyrus’. It is glitchy, like he’s struggling to make the sounds properly, and constantly changing volume. In fact, it’s much scarier than anything the woman has ever heard before.

So, she sits down in the chair beside him, because there’s nothing to do besides that, that won’t trigger him off. Needless to say, the figure makes her more afraid than she’s ever thought possible, but, considering her options, there’s nothing to do.

“I aM wInG-“ Without any warning whatsoever his head warps unnaturally around mid-sentence, glitching noises sounding from him again, until he suddenly stops, while the human covers her ears in pain. For sure, it feels like her head is exploding.

“sOrRy. It HaPpEnS aT tImEs, WhEn I aM tIrEd. LeT mE sTaRt OvEr,” he reaches out a skeletal hand – with a perfectly round hole in the middle – in a greeting, “My NaMe Is WiNg DiNgS gAsTeR. yOu CaN cAlL mE wInGdInGs.” She takes his hand, trying her hardest not to show her fear, and having to suppress a tremble.

“H-hello, Mr. Ga-Gaster. I am-“ before she can finish he cuts her off, waving his hand in dismissal.

“YoU aRe TaNa MaRcHeTtI. tHe PiNk PaNtHeR. i KnOw.” Surprise finds way to her face, not being nearly as good as her sister, Frisk, to mask her feelings, which obviously gets picked up by both Asgore and Wingdings.

“TeLl Me,” he leans over her shaking body, terror gripping at her very core, “WhAt Is A mArChEtTi DoInG iNfIlTrAtInG oN eBoTt gRoUnDs?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH TANA! YOU'RE ALIVE!  
> But for how long...?


	8. The Underboss and the Spy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took this long, I've been busy with family problems and grades...  
> Enjoy!

It’s a beautiful, sunny Wednesday afternoon. The weather is becoming warmer, the spring luring the trees and plants out of their deep winter sleep. Sans is willing to bet that the Border is already starting to bloom with precious colors and beauty, although it’s too bad that no one can really appreciate the enchanting characteristics of the Ebottian River. If it was up to the skeleton, they’d rid the city of the obnoxious Don Alonso and his followers, so that the citizens, once again, can enjoy and savor the park without having to fear for their lives. Alas, it isn’t, so he shall continue to do his father’s bidding until he can make his own decisions. In Sans’ opinion the day can't arrive soon enough. His entire being itches with the wish to rip off someone’s head. Preferably, Emmanuel’s, but he won’t say no if Dominic shows his sorry ass in his presence again. Not that his reappearance is likely to happen anytime soon. The fox has gone completely off the grid with no one knowing where – but he's trying not to worry, since his father currently is speaking to Don Dreemurr about sending a spy to infiltrate Los Amparadores.

Still, Sans isn’t satisfied. Far from it actually, he has a funny feeling that Dominic has something to do with his human’s disappearance. When the skeleton helped her escape the attack at The Golden Bull, he thought she’d go straight back to the inn, but clearly she didn’t. What information has the woman been hiding from him? What was she doing there in the first place? He just can’t seem to put the pieces together.

Sans can’t help but feel extremely guilty over not teleporting her back, but Papyrus and Undyne needed his help if they were to have a chance of succeeding in their assault, and if he was to leave for just a second some of their people might’ve been dusted. Luckily not even a single monster had been captured or killed, although many were wounded. The attack had been fairly successful, but at what cost? Dominic and Frisk had disappeared out of thin air, and Dominic was the main purpose of the whole mission. The kidnappings and disappearances of the monsters like Eerina and Monster Kid, are too hard a case to solve without any inside knowledge. Sure, they need Dominic to tell them where they kept the monsters, but Sans is becoming more and more upset each day that passes without any leads on where Frisk has gone. He shouldn’t care about this random human who just happened to be kind, and saved Alphys from ending up like Eerina, and comforted Erica when she needed someone, and treated his brother with respect, not fear, and-

Wow. Maybe he does have more reasons to care about this 'random human' than he originally thought. Not that he'll admit it.

He needs to find her, if not for his teensy crush, then at least as repayment for saving his friend from getting kidnapped. So, for the umpteenth time today, he starts to recount the latest couple of days.

Frisk was supposed to meet him at Grillby’s two days ago, and even though he waited there until dawn, Grillby’s didn’t even see the shadow of any human. When he went back to the inn to teach her that one doesn’t stand him up, Erica told him Frisk hadn’t been back since Saturday evening, which set him off immediately. He knew when he saw her the very first time that she kept many secrets, but for the life of Sans he can't figure out what they might be. Well, he could if he wants to. But he’s partly too lazy and partly doesn’t want to invade her privacy, since it became obvious she isn’t a danger to him or his family. This woman is the first human Sans has ever met who treats monsters like everybody else. Even Chara, from the Dreemurr family, behaves differently in the company of the magical race. The young man only cares for his brother; he’s got this bone-chilling attitude like everybody else is beneath him. Which some quite literally are when he is out on a killing job. And then there’s his street name. Red-Eyes.

But Chara doesn’t matter right now – Frisk does – so Sans gathers up his unnecessary thoughts into a bundle and throws them deep down, into a faraway corner of his mind, where they hopefully can’t resurface for some time.

Today he’ll have little to no time to search for his human, since he’s got a long day ahead of him. He needs to have a small meeting with the capos to go over the protection fees, and whether or not they should be lowered, visit their captives, which he caught when they raided the Golden Bull, and afterwards meet up with Undyne and Asriel to exchange information. Then, when he comes back, he’s going to speak to his father about the spy they’re sending into Don Alonso’s mafia.

And that’s just if nothing unexpected comes up, which – much to his irritation – it always does. There’s nothing he can do about it, he’s the underboss for a reason. Sans is quite the intelligent monster – taking after his father on that one – and absolutely an excellent leader.

Before the monsters came to the surface Wingdings was the royal scientist, and occasionally he would take his sons with him to the Lab. Sans was nothing but a young teenager at that point in time, but he found science to be exciting and interesting, therefore he spent many evenings in the Lab with his father, while Papyrus was at home with their mother. Wingdings would tell him how he came to create the biggest project in monster history: the core, and what was used in the process.

Really just a mix of human technology and magic.

That was when the young skeleton started training his mind to process and comprehend complex things, such as the many different uses of magic, and how it would react at being mixed with certain metals and materials. Just before W.D Gaster found a way to use his inventions to destroy the barrier, he came dangerously close to creating a space/time travelling device. The idea behind it was to fuse a rare metal found in Mount Ebott – called Buronamium – with magical abilities. It would theoretically create a black hole, that could be used to travel anywhere in the multiverse.

The metal is known for being magic resistant, so Wingdings theorized that if fused with the metal, it would react kind of like two positive magnets forced together. In this case the force would be so great that the fabric of reality would collapse in a controlled area, based on how much metal was used.

Problem was, when he and Sans wanted to go for a test-run, they didn’t just create a black hole. No, they created the Void.

The Void is nowhere and everywhere. It doesn’t exist and it does. It’s a place and it’s purely darkness. Neither Sans nor his father have ever been able to explain exactly what it is.

When the experiment failed exceptionally badly, the skeletons tried to mix their own magic with the one creating the Void to stop it from happening, but, in the attempt, something far more peculiar happened. They did indeed stop the Void from consuming their universe, but in the process achieved something else.

The darkness started to take over the monsters’ souls instead, encompassing their very core. Wingdings’ face started to crumble into dust, his whole being drastically disappearing until he got it under control. How did he do it? A ton of his own magic and sheer willpower. After all, that is the cornerstone of magic, just like intent is the cornerstone of LOVE. He bubbled off the tainted part of his soul with a strong barrier, which keeps the darkness down to this very day. Keeping the nothingness from taking over his soul can be somewhat tiring. Actually, it can result in volume changes in his voice, unnatural warping of his body and sometimes – if it’s really bad – black goo will trickle out from his eyes and mouth. Should he ever fall victim to the darkness, Sans is strictly instructed to kill him on the spot, so the Void won’t consume their reality.

Speaking of Sans the exact same thing nearly happened to him as well, had it not been for his father. His fast reaction prevented his son from experiencing the same pain. When Wingdings realized that the darkness was about to take over their souls, he nimbly absorbed the darkness from his son before pushing him away.

That’s how Sans got the impressive ability to teleport. His magic became tainted by the Void, even if he only was exposed to it for a split-second. Now, he can manipulate the fabric around him like it’s no big deal and jump into nothingness, where one can go anywhere. Sans has an idea that traveling to an alternate universe would be possible if he wanted to.

He hasn’t tried. And he isn’t going to.

 

* * *

 

It’s dark out: prime time for sketchy types to be awake and active, and all normal people to be fast asleep. In the district named Hotlands lies a mansion inhabited by a small family and their best men, led by the capo Undyne. The number of rooms in the building are too numerous to count.

One of these rooms is the Don’s office, where Mr. Dreemurr is currently doing work. In the opposite and mostly unused wing lies a small room with a dusty interior. It is in there that a young woman is trying to stay positive. Somewhere between the two a certain skeleton sits on a white designer couch in a spare living room.

“YoU cAnNoT eVeN bEgIn To CoMpReHeNd HoW tIrEd I aM, sAnS,” the skeleton’s dad complains. He enters the space with heavy steps and an even heavier sigh. The door closes with a silent  _click_.

“ya shoulda stayed home, i coulda taken care of it, pops,” his words are laced with concern, “yer voice ‘s startin’ to act up again. go home ta paps ‘n get sum’ sleep.”

The don wanders around the room aimlessly, completely lost in thought. His hands warp into a blurry mess when he grabs the sides of his skull in pain. Sans is at his side in an instant.

“’m serious… go home.”

“hI sErIoUs, I’m-“ Sans slaps his father across the back of the head, putting his joke to a halt. This is not the time to be joking, Sans’ love for good humor aside. Wingdings has a habit of forgetting his needs – like sleeping. He helps his father to the couch so he can relax a bit.

“don’t strain yaself. how far are we wit da whole spy situation?”

“ReMeMbEr ThAt GiRl WhO wAs tHeRe WhEn BiNkEy WaS tAkEn? GoOd. It Is HeR. OuR sPy Is TaNa MaRcHeTtI. sHe Is GeTtInG rEaDy To LeAvE aS wE sPeAk, In ExChAnGe FoR fReEdOm WhEn ShE rEtUrNs.”

Sans is quiet for some time, shocked by Wingdings’ revelation.

_Little ms. Pink Panther?_

The Marchettis rarely get involved with business outside of Greenmay City, so if they sent the apple of their eye to New Ebott, something big must be going on. If the favorite child of Thomas and Angela is all the way out there, her sister might be near too. She has quite a badass reputation for a puny human. For the life of him, Sans just can’t seem to remember her name, but it doesn’t matter anyway. He can just ask Tana.

_Did Don Alonso also kidnap one of theirs? If that’s the case, then we have a potential powerful ally in them._

“what da hell is thomas’ favorite doing all the way out ‘ere?”

“ShE sAiD sHe WaS wOrKiNg On ThE cAsE iNvOlViNg MoNsTeR kId’S dIsAppEaRaNcE.”

“whaddya mean? i thought she only worked cases ‘nside her hometown.”

“We NeEd To KeEp A cLoSe EyE oN hEr.” Sans nods. Angela is the older sister to the Don, and messing with Tana means messing with Angela, which means unnecessary trouble. Just two months ago this would’ve been no problem at all; Sans would’ve gotten some of his men to take care of the issue. But since the mob down in the Ruins became more and more active and started kidnapping some of their citizens, they can’t spare any of their precious time to deal with the intrusion.

“don’t worry pops. i’ll keep an _eye socket_ out for ‘er.”

The silence stretches for a dozen breaths. It’s broken when Wingdings quietly starts crying. Crying deep black tears. Sans is quickly on his feet, panic spreading through him.

“dammit, I _told_ ya not ta overwork yaself,” he scolds. He pushes his father down, while the black goo drips onto the white couch. Good thing this isn't a frequently used room.

“take a nap, i’ll go talk ta tana.”

The Don closes his sockets and is asleep in no time. Sans sighs in relief, before walking out the door. The guard standing outside turns to look at him – its name is Lesser Dog, and he’s clad in shining armor. The monster resembles a white Pomeranian; just like the rest of the Royal Guard.

“make sure no one disturbs ‘im.” The skeleton orders. When the dog barks in response, the only trace left of him in the hallway is the blue and yellow sparks in the air.

 

* * *

 

Tana screams in shock when a strange skeleton appears directly in front of her. The brush in her hand falls out of her grip at her start and lands on the ground with an embarrassingly loud noise. She starts to wonder what this new monster could possibly want from her. He’s obviously high up in the hierarchy, based off his expensive clothing and laid-back attitude. The woman never was the bravest of the siblings and is thoroughly intimidated by his appearance. His grin takes a bit of the edge off her nerves as she takes in his character.

“sorry ta startle ya. i’ve heard sum’ stuff about this incredibly talented marchetti detective ‘n i figured i’d take a look.” He says right as he gives her a onceover. The man cuts quite the impressive figure in his dark blue suit and fedora, but Tana has become immune to such things over the years. Confusion fills her.

“You’ve heard of me?” The woman asks. Sure, she’s aware of her reputation as the best detective in Greenmay, and some even say she’s the best around, but this monster actually _heard_ of her this far away from her hometown? Not bad at all. She can’t help but feel smug at this revelation. She is about to ask him who _he_ is when he interrupts.

“’course. everybody who doesn’t live under a rock knows Tana Marchetti, an’ her sista.”

“Wait, Frisk has a reputation too?”

Sans tenses up when the name is uttered. He takes two steps forward and grips her arms tightly with a cautious expression on his face.

“her name‘s frisk?” She nods confusedly, not really following why he cares about any of this.

_Why is he here anyway?_

“Hey, actually, can I get my phone back? I need to text her so she knows-“

“does she have dark, long hair, brown eyes, does whatever she wants, and never listens?” He inquires.

Now it’s Tana’s turn to tense up.

 _Seriously, who_ is _this guy? He’s honest-to-God creepy,_ sounds her thoughts.

“Why do you wanna know?” She treads lightly with this monster, careful with what information she gives him. Should she be careless, she could end up getting her sister in a lot of unwanted trouble. Apparently she isn’t the only one thinking her words over. The room goes quiet with a thoughtful silence. The only noises are those of the guard shifting outside her door and the biting of nails.

 _Oh wait, that’s_ me.

Her focus moves from the mobster to her bit-down nails, chagrin decorating her face and a sigh leaving her lips. A wish for a manicure all but fills her mind when he finally answers.

“we… well, i guess ya could say we’re… friends? nah…” a few seconds pass, “she an’ i have a bit ‘f flirtatious back an' forth banter. i jus’ wanna know ‘f she’s alright or not.”

_Pardon my dude? Did you just say flirtatious banter?! Should I be mad or creeped out?_

Tana isn’t distrustful, at least not in the way her sister is, but the back of her mind warns her about this shifty guy, who claims to have a romantic relationship with Frisk. 

 _Also, just_ how _did they become acquainted?_

Now that’s a mind-twisting question.

“I’ll tell you if you answer some of _my_ questions first.”

“that’s fair.”

She starts asking all the crucial questions: “ _who are you?_ ”, “ _how did you meet Frisk?_ ”, “ _why are you interested in her?_ ”, “ _how do I know you’re not making this up?_ ”

When she learns of her sister’s disappearance, she breaks down crying. Ugly crying. She never wanted to involve Frisk in this case, that’s why she didn’t tell her about New Ebott.

It’s clear to her, even through her blurry sight, that he doesn’t know whether or not to comfort her.

 _My tears won’t help anyone! Pull it together,_ she scolds internally. The skeleton seems relieved when she continues on with their conversation after taking some moments to calm herself down a bit.

Except his generally mysterious self the guy is pretty see-through with his answers. The tall skeleton she met briefly at Grillby’s, with the booming voice, is apparently this mobster’s brother. She already knew Papyrus’ name, but now she learns that this skeleton is named Sans. Gaster.

 _Part of the local mob_ , she adds silently. At this she isn’t nearly as surprised as she maybe should’ve been, but she decides that if this shifty skeleton truly is in family with Papyrus then he might not be that bad.

The questioning continues until Tana is totally up-to-date in regards to the kidnappings, murders and mafia businesses, and Sans knows all about the case she’s investigating. Or _was_ investigating before she got captured by a Dreemurr.

“So, what’s the plan?” She asks hopefully. They’re currently sitting on the bed, facing each other.

This skeleton seems like he’s got everything under control. The human doesn't doubt for one second that a masterplan already has been formed in that intelligent mind of his. His attitude, his suit, his sassy smile; it all but screams brilliance.

“don’t have one.”

She blinks. Twice.

“You… don’t have one?”

“nah, was kinda thinkin’ ya had one. ain’t ya da detective?” He says nonchalantly and with a laid-back smile. Tana has to restrain herself from punching him in pure frustration. A headache is threatening to show up. The skeleton takes in her irritation with a playful gaze.

“jus’ kiddin’,” he reveals with a playful tone, “let’s go over my brilliant plan ‘fore ya go out on that spy business, yea?”

Had it not been for the very fact that he’s Wingdings’ oldest son, Tana wouldn't have hesitated to sick her father’s men on him.

He's just about to explain his 'amazing' plan, but Tana cuts in before he can get the chance.

"Uhm... You don't think I maybe could get a nicer room?"

There isn't even a pause before he answers in a dismissive tone.

"nah."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so so much to AmyScarlet, my beta-reader for this chapter!<3 If you want to read a fic besides mine you should totally check out Experimentale she and SolGodess wrote together, it's really good!  
> The next chapter will be action-packed, so stay tuned!


	9. Drunk at Grillby's

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took quite some time to write, I had to perform a musical all last week...

The pain is unbearable for a person who isn’t used to torture. Sure, the sisters had been disciplined by their parents and nanny, and some of the methods used were pretty rough for children their age. But this? This was nothing like that.

She had no concept of time. Water was given to her two times while she was in that dark room. No food. The darkness didn’t bother her much at first, but when she realized that her eyes didn’t grow used to it, uneasiness started to fill her slowly. She was knocked out back at the road towards the Border and when she woke up, she kept trying to open her eyes. Only, they were already open. Enveloped in darkness, she couldn’t describe where she was held captive, but it became obvious to her that Dominic was the reason behind it. And if Dominic was the mastermind… then she really was – and I quote – “ _Absolutely fucked beyond recognition.”_

All of which is true. The darkness didn’t scare her. It was the fear of what came next that made her shake in her boots. Metaphorical boots, since she threw hers away.

When they moved her to the at-first-clammy room from her dark cell she tried to take in her surroundings so she could start mapping out what little of the place she was being exposed to. She unfortunately found that all the hallways and corridors looked the same; cement flooring and brick walls. Oh how she longed to go back to her dark void because right now light meant agony as everything burns. Her arms, her legs, her hands… Even her left foot is covered in first-degree burns. The rest of her body varies between second- and first-degree. The smell of burnt hair and charred flesh flies around in the room, making her situation worse by a hair.

_Get it? Hair?_

Her morale is low and all hope of being saved is long gone, although she tries to make up for it in jokes. Jokes she hopefully can tell her weird skeleton-friend if she busts out of this place.

Her shoulders are barely covered by her singed and blood matted  hair, which is now uneven in length. Her body is shaking for whatever reason. She would’ve cried if it didn’t mean depriving her body of its important fluid. All but her face is marked by the torture Dominic’s younger brother, Adrian, did to her, but her appearance means little to her right now. When she isn’t Adrian’s plaything, her thoughts go towards her sister who most likely has been through the same thing. A sob escapes her unwillingly.

“Let me ask you. One. More. Time,” her tormentor says in a menacing voice. The man in black walks towards her with a glowing crowbar, wearing some kind of gloves. Frisk recognizes them as those her foster-father would occasionally wear when he came back from Headquarters. They’re designed to resist heat and were originally introduced to the surface by W.D. Gaster.

“Are you with don G or don Ass?” He mocks.

 _No more burns-_ , she begs inwardly in a puny attempt to gain pity. A faint memory is bubbling to the surface, at the thought. The face of her foster mother, Angela, appears, but before it can replay in her mind, she abruptly stops it for a moment.

An eardrum-breaking scream echoes in the room when he places the metal just below her collar bone. The skin there is so thin that he doesn’t need to leave it long before she passes out.

The dark is her safe space for now. No one can hurt her in the bliss of nothingness.

 

_“FRISK! Tana! Get your asses in here!” The lady yells. Her hair was once red, but time made it brown. It is curly, beautiful and set up in a decorative bun with too many bobby pins and hair ties to count. A heated up curling iron sits atop a dresser within her reach. Butterflies in pure gold hang upon a chain, in the same color, around her neck. Her earrings and rings all match with one another, none made of anything cheaper than a small apartment. Some kind of green designer dress covers her curvy body which compliments her eyes._

_The scurry of two sets of feet on carpeted floor sounds in the master bedroom. The older sister is the first to come through the doorway, totally out of breath. She turns to the blonde girl behind her and sticks out her tongue._

_“_ I _made… it here…first… loser!” She brags in between breaths, a smug look chiseled on her young face. Tana crosses her arms and pouts, saying “no fair, you always win!”_

 _Their short banter is put to a stop when_ _Angela_ _grits her teeth, seething with anger._

_“Quiet!” She exclaims. “Who took my emerald ring? Frisk?” Accuses the woman with a sneer. The girls exchange scared looks at this, before Tana leans in to whisper something in her sister’s ear. The girl’s eyes widen in surprise._

_Frisk isn’t about to let her sister get into trouble. Her acting isn’t that good yet, but her lying is better than an average 11-year-old’s. The gears in her head turn and turn for the right words._

_“Miss Angela… I’m so, so sorry,” she stops for the amount of two breaths, “but you looked so pretty in it, and I wanted to look_ just _like you.”_

_She adorns her voice with sadness and regret. Frisk knows she can’t prevent their foster mother from punishing someone, but she can definitely prevent Tana from being hit this time._

_Angela answers._

_One sister stands in front of the other to block the incoming punch._

_A dresser moves wildly when the girl falls into it._

_The curling iron lands upon her lower back._

 

* * *

A beautiful woman calmly walks down a hallway. Her hips sway in a hypnotic motion, which would make all pervy men cat-call her, had it not been because of her boyfriend. Her heels _click-clack_ against the cement flooring. The elegant, and very expensive, purse she’s wearing bounces against her hip at every step.

A man further down shuts a heavy door. At the sight, the woman calls his name and waves in a flirty manner.

“I wanted to surprise you, since you have been busy,” she says.

The man and the woman meet halfway in a heated kiss, that turns into a straight up make-out session. She wraps her hand in his fluffy, dark hair, genuinely enjoying its soft feel. The three other men nearby pretend not to notice, purely out of respect and veneration. The woman knows they’ll have her back in a moment. She gets trapped between her lover and the wall when he pushes her back, they both pause for a moment to catch their breath. Two pairs of brown eyes meet.

“Sorry, babe. This stuff can really drag out,” he apologizes. His fingertips, calloused from playing guitar, traces up her thigh. In response she purrs to rile him up. Her more dainty hand pulls it further up where it rests for a while. A dull smell of blood comes out from under the door. “The work is delicate.”

“Can’t I accompany you in there? That way it’s two birds with one stone.” Her voice is low and sexual, carefully picked out as the best way to make him agree. Adrian does so with a cocky smile.

“How can I resist?” He puts an arm around her waist and leads her towards the door. With one last look at the guards outside the room where Frisk is kept, Emilia Abbatino lets her victim lead her straight to her target. _This is almost too easy,_ she muses.

The room isn’t that big. The walls and flooring are the same in here, and drains are put wherever. Not much imagination is needed for Emilia to think of what they might be used for. It’s uncomfortably hot in there, so beads of sweat break out on her forehead. She doesn’t doubt her dress will be damp in a matter of minutes, but she hopefully won’t be in there for _that_ long.

Adrian becomes busy with turning on the lights, so Emilia casually pulls out her phone. While his back is turned her way, she writes a quick message, and lets her eyes fall on the poor, young girl in front of her. Well – technically – Frisk is a whole year older than her and further up in the hierarchy, but Emilia can’t see her as a superior when she’s looking so… fragile. Like she’ll break by a simple touch. Seeing this makes her heart burn with anger. For the entirety of her life, the Marchettis gave her a home, a purpose and a family. That one time in Rome, when she first met Frisk and Tana, she felt completely lost and devoid of hope. Now that has changed, and she will do _anything_ to prevent losing another family.

Never again, she swore. Never again would she stand by and watch people she cares about die horrible deaths.

A crowbar _scritched_ across the metal flooring, and the sound snaps her out of her thoughts. Emilia’s head whips to where her boyfriend is standing with a thoughtful expression. His now bare chest is coated in sweat, so in spite of herself she starts enjoying his appearance. Defined muscles – and an amazing sixpack – show on his body. That is the best part of her job; spending time with hot douchebags and then get ting revenge when her mission is done. It _does_ satisfy her a lot when she kills off an especially annoying target, yet sometimes she wishes it wasn’t a necessary part of her life.

Adrian walks in front of Frisk – who is bound to a metal chair – as Emilia’s pocket vibrates in warning. She looks down briefly, while he talks to the unconscious Frisk.

“Wake up, bitch!”

The tortured girl is totally broken. Her skin is red and blistered, chocolate hair burnt, clothes ragged and destroyed… Where purple doesn’t cover her face, crimson does…

And while red has always been the Kitty’s favorite color, Emilia knows she’d prefer it to be her normal tanned skin. Her lips are swollen but not moving in response. Emilia guesses she really _is_ out cold. Who knows for how long?

_This could be a problem._

The sound of a clap echoes in the room. The lady walks to stand beside her boyfriend before he can hurt Frisk any more. Good timing too; outside in the hallway multiple fights break out. Adrian lashes around with the crowbar when the door breaks down and a couple of men rush inside.

This is exactly what Emilia was waiting for. In a split-second she’s undoing the ties holding Frisk to the chair. Screams, gunshots and punches can be heard. It takes some delicacy and strain, but she finally manages to lift Frisk over her shoulders.

“Some help would be great, Caleb!” the woman cries when she realizes just _how big_ of a weight difference there is between a full-grown human and small farm animal.

_Why couldn’t you weigh the same as Alberto?_

Caleb, Ivan and Adrian are currently fighting each other, leaving Emilia the needed opening to escape with their target. Problem is – there’s no way for the woman to carry Frisk out of the building alone. If Caleb doesn’t get his ass over there to help her, they won’t get very far.

“ _Caleb!”_ She tries to scream his name once again for emphasis, and it works as intended. Ivan covers his back when Adrian goes for his gun, moving swiftly on his feet to hit the man with all his body weight. Which is quite a lot, considering the fact that Ivan weighs no less than 230 pounds, most of that being muscles and height. The air gets knocked out of his opponent’s lungs, the impact from the fall makes him drop the gun, and Ivan points his own weapon at Adrian’s head.

A trigger goes off. This action will definitely give him praise when they return home.

Caleb is quickly at Emilia’s side, ready to take over her burden. Like his father, Caleb is quite the heavy man. Weighing roughly the same as Ivan, although slightly leaner looking, a dangerously thin woman like Frisk should be no problem at all. Her weight loss really worries Emilia, although there’s nothing to do about it before she’s back at HQ.

“I’ll lead the way out! Ivan you watch our backs!” Barks the woman. In spite of her smaller physique, the caporegime’s got attitude. Both men nod at her order, but Ivan whips his head around in a frenzy. Something catches his attention in the corridor.

Everything has gone according to Emilia’s carefully laid out plan. She even contacted Thomas Marchetti to make sure it was alright with him to proceed with it. After he had his temper-tantrum over his daughter’s “irresponsible behavior”, he agreed to send a group of men to infiltrate the building where they had kept Frisk.

 _We also have_ _a_ _little time before the monsters act on the lead I gave them._

Yes, everything has gone perfectly up until this point. So – of course – something has to go wrong. Such is Emilia’s bad luck.

The fight outside stops without warning. Steps come closer towards the door. Emilia peeks outside the broken-down door to the hallway, finding no survivors of their men. Dominic Alonso steps inside, along with a total of 12 men.  In all the chaos she forgot to listen appropriately to the fight, to make sure nobody snuck up on them. The slap of a palm on a face echoes in the space. They’re in deep shit.

In the back of the room is a door leading to a different hallway. Down that hallway lies an alternate exit of the building. If Dominic is blocking their initial way out, then that’s the way they have to use.

This raises a new problem.

_How do I get Caleb and Frisk out of that door unharmed?_

Said two people are now standing beside Emilia, with Ivan in front of them. There are about 4 steps to the door…

The 12 men are about to surround them, when Ivan does something incredibly brave, although arguably stupid. He draws a blade.

 

* * *

 

 

The darkness is threatening to disappear. Frisk is slowly gaining consciousness, but she’s fighting to stay in the void of nothing. The chilling memory from before aside, she likes it better when she isn’t awake. When dormant, she won’t feel hunger or thirst, pain or burning agony. Existence is peacefully numb.

Well, that feeling is gone now, switched with the unbearable sensation of endless pain. The first thing she feels, is how the front of her body aches and erupts in even more pain. Her head is too foggy to put together complete thoughts, but if it wasn’t, her first thought would have been something along the lines of:

_I’m in hell. Fire is going to consume me for all eternity, while I’m unable to do anything about it!_

Her head is spinning, both physically and mentally. The dizziness, which makes her want to puke, is caused by the consistent turning of the ground beneath her. Had she actually eaten in the past few days, it might’ve been on the ground this very moment. A blessing in disguise, so to say.

She vaguely makes out some words from a conversation.

“…back at HQ. Go!”

And without warning a thousand sensations hit her all at once. The mixed smell of guns, sweat and blood, the non-stopping pain erupting all over her body, a million words uttered in a mess she can’t make together… the drumming sound of feet running on floor.

Then she gets it. Sans has come to save her!

_Took his sweet-ass time…_

In this moment she notices that the ground she thought was moving is no ground at all. It’s a man. Consciousness gained; Frisk realizes exactly what is going on. It’s not what she hoped at all, her dream of being saved by Sans completely crushed.

_It would’ve been pretty romantic._

The man carrying her is Caleb – her personal guard from when she lived with her foster family – and a woman is running in front of them. Frisk recognizes her when she turns her head to look at their long-gone followers.

_Emilia._

Adrian Alonso’s girlfriend, whom she met at the Golden Bull. What is she doing? What the hell is going on? The questions are endless. She tries to reel in her thoughts. It feels as if her mind is scattered all over.

But in all the chaos one name shines clearly through her mind.

_Tana!_

Right. If this is where they have kept Frisk, then they might hold Tana captive here as well. When Caleb and Emilia turn around a corner Frisk tries to speak. Her throat is dry, so no intelligible words come out, but both people pay attention to her with obvious relief. Caleb settles her against a wall with gentle motions.

“You’re awake! Good grief.” The giant says with a worried smile. The only thing keeping her upright is his steady hands on her shoulders. Croaks escape her when she tries to talk once more. She swallows some spit. Her ears catch the sound of a purse opening, and soon after Emilia feeds her two healing candies.

“Tana… is… here,” she says in-between hard-fought breaths. The wound just below her collar bone is starting to act up. Her saviors exchange confused glances.

“No, your sister isn’t here. Emilia has checked the entire building but could only find you. Do you know where she could be?”

“The Alonsos… have her…”

“Is she really here?” Emilia asks confusedly. She looks around to orientate herself, although the corridor they’re in is awfully quiet and dark. Frisk nods in response. All the spots and places on her body that are hurt are starting to become numb; one of the side effects of the healing candies.

“With… the kidnapped mons-“ An unstoppable cough takes over. The action sends bolts of pain through her body. Her face scrunches up in a pained wince, but she tries again.

“…monsters. With the monsters.”

“WITH THE MONSTERS?!” both exclaim at the same time, making Frisk’s head hurt. The darkness is starting to persuade her into its loving arms. _I need to find my sister first,_ she thinks. Somehow, the thought is able to piece itself together in the chaotic mind of hers. Rather than nodding, Frisk whispers a near–unintelligible agreement. Emilia starts cursing in some foreign language, while Caleb becomes busy with helping Frisk up from the ground again. He asks her a question, but she can’t hear what it is; she’s too busy slipping out of consciousness. Her entire being starts fighting _against_ it now. If there’s a chance of saving her sister, she can’t afford to fall victim to the void again.

It’s dark now. Dark, darker yet darker. Her blood is coursing with a sensation not unlike that of magic, but deep inside she knows what it is.

_Determination._

Suddenly, the mission doesn’t seem so hopeless anymore.

 

* * *

 

There are times where Tana wishes she was an only child. Times where, despite her love for her sister, she just wants to be left alone. This is no such time. Frisk is good at giving hugs and encouraging if you feel down or discouraged. A pitiful need for this type of kindness fills Tana up, just like the bartender is about to fill her glass of hard alcohol.

“Thanks.” She mutters. His bar is pretty much deserted. The tension between the two sides of the river has grown thicker than butter, so most inhabitants stay inside once night falls. The young girl is sat at the bar, staring into the bottom of one empty glass after the other. The bartender says nothing, just standing there. Judging. Debating mentally. He comes to a conclusion, and sets the bottle back on the shelf. The fire elemental picks up a new glass, which he fills with water and some ice. Honestly a bit dangerous, the liquid considered. When he demonstratively places the drink in front of her, some water droplets splash onto the counter.

“I’m not drunk yet!” She exclaims with an insulted voice. This only receives a pair of squinty eye-lights in the blue flames of his. She takes a sip of the water, not entirely happy with her situation. Earlier today she was practically thrown out of the Ruins on her hands and feet. She’d been recognized by none other than Dominic Alonso, who didn’t appreciate her waltzing into a local bar. They ended up having a civilized conversation about a neutral relationship between the Marchetti- and Alonso family if she agreed to leave his territory immediately.

Needless to say, the situation was incredibly embarrassing, and has left the woman without any leads to go on. It was _her_ job to infiltrate Los Amparadores, but she has to find another way in.   
_There_ has _to be another way. There just has to._

And then the door opens. The scuffling of shoes follows.

“TANA! WE HAVE A LEAD!” A loud voice booms from behind her. Papyrus. Tana hurriedly turns around in her seat with a hopeful look plastered on her face. The skeleton brothers and their fish guardian are rushing to her. Sans is generally hard to read, she finds, and this time is no exception. Papyrus is excited, Undyne is ready to kick ass… but Sans? Who even knows what he’s thinking at this point.

The human bolts off of her chair, glass of water in hand.

“What is it?!”

“THEY KEEP THE MONSTERS AT AN OLD FACTORY. WE EVEN HAVE AN ADDRESS!”

She downs her water before settling the glass on the bar.

“Then why are we still here?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much again to AmyScarlet and my friend Emilia for proof reading this chapter ^^


	10. In Which Emilia Struggles With Italian Proverbs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't had a chance to get a beta-reader to have a look at this yet, so bear with me.  
> Also, this is a long chapter... Over 1000 words longer than usual.

She’s watching the wind tumble a few scraps of wastepaper along the cobblestones. The moon is the only light source in this quiet alleyway. Treacherous strands of hair let loose from Tana’s messy ponytail, irritating her eyes. Inside the building behind her, a meeting is ongoing. _They better hurry their sorry asses._

Despite her warm coat, the biting wind finds a way to chill her down to the bone. If she wasn’t fighting it down, her teeth would be rattling this very moment. The meeting between the two dons is taking forever, especially when she has to wait outside meanwhile. If she wanted to, she could leave right now and call Thomas for help, his unavoidable pissed reaction aside. Problem is if she calls him, he’ll know about the Monster Kid case for certain, and something tells her he won’t let this one go. A bit of patience and just doing the rescue mission with the monster mafias, could make the situation easier and less problematic.

Cold combinated with restlessness makes her jump up and down on the spot. She still doesn’t get why she couldn’t stay in the kitchen or something, so long as she didn’t have to wait _outside_. No, Grillby’s might not necessarily be a huge bar, but it has plenty of room to have a private meeting _and_ keep a human warm. At least that’s what Tana thinks. Granted, it doesn’t please her that they have to prolong this. If it was up to her, they would already be on their way to the factory where Frisk is.

The backdoor to Grillby’s opens up. Tana turns around to see the monsters who just stepped outside. She expects the three Gasters to be watching her with wary eye sockets, but Sans surprises her. All laid-back and wearing a comfortable smile, she wouldn’t think something is the matter, had she not known it herself. It gives her chills.

_Sans and Frisk are a lot alike if I think about it. Although I’m a bit surprised that she might be involved with a dangerous mobster. What happened to her critical view of mafia business?_

Wingdings looks outright scary right now; if looks could kill, his would commit genocide. His pale skull stands out from his dark suit but compliments his creamy turtleneck. His stance alone is enough a warning to anyone with ill intentions.

Papyrus is formidable as well – his build helping quite a lot – but ever since Tana saw the gentle side of him when they first met, she can’t bring herself to fear him. At least not as much as she probably should. His expression is imitating that of seriousness, but it’s obvious he’s glad to finally do something about Los Amparadores.

“Ms. Marchetti, we have decided to move immediately. You will be accompanying my sons in the attack, where you will work together to rescue all monster captives.” This being the first time the human hears him speak normally; she has to wonder why that is. The two brothers start walking down the alleyway, where a black car just pulled up. Before she follows, a question needs answering. It’s with all her concentration and self-control that she keeps the fear out of her voice.

“Sir, what about my sister? Who’s in charge of getting _her_ out then?”

“Our first priority will be our people. If there is extra time you may try to rescue her, should it not put any of ours in danger,” the don states. The human cannot believe what she just heard, and can't help but feel like she being made a fool of.  “Goodbye… _Panther,_ ” he finishes. Her cheeks redden with rage.

The nickname Pink Panther is rather fitting, her detective skills and favorite color considered. More intimidating than Frisk’s, that’s for sure.

“hey kiddo, ya comin’ or not?” Sans asks impatiently. It’s the closest he’s come all evening to showing his restlessness. Tana doesn’t answer him; she just walks away from one scary skeleton and into the company of the other. Wingdings and his oldest son are pretty alike, but the don takes the cake. At least Sans has a piece of mind to appear relaxed – Wingdings seems like he’s ready for an ambush at any given time.

 

* * *

 

The car ride takes a whole lifetime. Or rather, that is what it feels like to her. The driver seems calm and carefree, which Tana can’t quite understand. Papyrus called him “Riverperson” when they got inside, but Sans refers to him as River only. Tana avoids him altogether, she’s too busy thinking about what to do when they arrive at the abandoned factory. If Wingdings’ source is right, then Adrian, Dominic and many of their best men are at the location. That's a lot of muscle power.

It’s well-known knowledge that humans were stronger than the monsters back when the barrier was made. Since those thousands of years, the magic in humans has almost gone extinct. It happens only rarely that a mage is born, and even more seldom that the powers are strong. This means – at least for the time being – that monsters have the upper-hand in a fight. No matter how physically strong, they won’t stand a chance against the complex magics. They also have somebody inside the organisation, who hopefully will give a helping hand.

All this tips the scales in favor of the monsters. All this – and yet Tana knows it can very well turn ugly. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow... But someday.

_“I think… I think that they experiment with monster magic.” The caterpillar says._

_“How would they do that?” She asks. Without paying it any mind, she starts biting her nails._

_“B-by kidnapping monsters and ex-extracting their magic…”_

“ _But that would mean-“_

_“Yes. They’re trying to i-infuse humans with... magic.”_

It’s not that likely to be a success, however if Emmanuel Alonso really _does_ succeed in bringing back magic in humans… the result will be catastrophic. Scared for everybody’s life, although mostly Frisk’s, her heart starts beating faster and faster. A stone settles in her stomach.

_I can’t tell anyone besides dad. And he needs to know ASAP. That reminds me, I need to get back my phone._

“HUMAN,” the skeleton says, interrupting her thoughts. “WE HAVE ARRIVED.” Tana looks out of the car window, which is parked at a building.

“Are we already at the factory?” She asks confusedly. The building is at least 20 stories tall and looks nothing like Papyrus described it to be.

“NO, OF COURSE NOT. WE CANNOT _DRIVE_ OVER THE BRIDGE.”

Now she notices. River has merely driven them to the Border. The rest is up to themselves.

“Isn’t it pretty dangerous to cross here?” Tana tries to keep a pang of fear out of her voice. The monster whom Frisk saved – Raven – told Tana _all_ about the dangerous dealings of Los Amparadores. The Ebottian River is no easy place to cross, at least not when in the company of two skeletons. Speaking of skeletons, the shortest one clears his throat.

_Wait, throat? That guy doesn’t have one of those… Does he?_

“ _water_ ya thinkin’ kid? me ‘n paps wouldn’t last a secon’ out there,” he jokes with a wink. At first the pun goes over her head, but after a couple of seconds it sinks in. Then she sighs while deciding to ignore it. Instead of laughing she only feels her irritation growing stronger.

“Then why are we here? Will _somebody_ tell me what is going on?!” Papyrus starts at her outburst. Almost shaking with anger, Tana looks to her right. The river reflects the moonlight beautifully and the rest of the park does nothing to make it look as dangerous as it is. They must be at one of the sentry stations used by the Gasters to keep an eye on who crosses the bridges.

She looks back at Sans, waiting for him to say something. _Anything_. When he doesn’t, she huffs in disbelief.

“I thought you cared for my sister! But – clearly – you don’t. Do you even _want_ to save her? Because it feels like you’re just using her as an excuse to get back your _freak-buddies_!” Yells the fed up girl. In her stress and desperation, she lets the insult slip out of her, but only too late does she realize. Fearful, she tries to reel it in.

“I-I’m so sorry Sans, I didn’t mean-“ the small pang of worry turns into a bone-chilling fear of the skeleton in front of her. His eye-lights are completely gone, his smile turned tense.

“W h a t.   D i d.   Y o u.   S a y?”

_This is bad._

“S-Sans I’m j-just so wo-worried ab-b-bout my sister-“ his sockets are empty. Dead empty. Suddenly the weather doesn’t seem like the coldest part of New Ebott. A strong mindful debate takes place in Tana, regarding whether or not to just run for it. She _was_ always rather good at track practice, when in high school...

Sans’ ability to teleport makes her decide against it. She gulps nervously.

 _Teleport? Ugh, I totally forgot that this dude can teleport! Of course we’re not crossing, he’s going to_ teleport _us over._

She realizes what a dumb fool she was just then and prays to every possible god and godlike entity.

“I d-didn’t mean it like t-that… It’s just,” a nail gets bit, “I completely forgot you can teleport… All this worry for my s-sister got to me, and I… lashed out.” To calm herself she takes a deep breath. Papyrus is standing behind Sans, probably contemplating if he should talk to his brother or not. “God, Sans, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have said that…”

No answer, and still no trace of his eye lights, which makes Tana freak out even more. One thing is snapping at her _sister_ when she’s had it, a whole other is snapping at Sans _freaking_ Gaster. Sure – Frisk is missing, she might be dead, and it’s not certain if Tana has permission to save her or not – but does he really care about that?

_He became a gangster for a reason, and I doubt it’s because he’s a thoughtful and sentimental guy._

The younger monster puts a hand on Sans’ shoulder. Or, well, his jacket-covered clavicle.

“BROTHER PERHAPS YOU SHOULD SHOW MERCY. THE HUMAN IS UNDER A LOT OF PRESSURE, WHICH SOMEONE AS GREAT AS YOU PROBABLY CAN UNDERSTAND. IT WOULD BE BAD TO START A GANG WAR BETWEEN US AND THE MARCHETTIS NOW.” He says, doing his best to calm Sans down. At least knowing when to appear inferior, Tana looks downward in an ashamed way. Eye-contact missing, she doesn’t notice his eyes returning their light.

“ya right bro. i’ll jus’ have ta wait until afta we’ve taken care ‘f the alonsos.” His voice is collected and sounds as if he’s describing the weather.

_Such a jerk._

Then he takes a couple steps forward and grips her arms tightly. For the duration of his next two sentences his eyes turn into two voids again.

“but if ya ever talk shit about my kind again, or questions my relation to frisk…” He whispers, making sure Papyrus won’t hear, “Y o u ‘ l l   b e   d e a d   w h e r e   y o u 

s t a n d.”

While taking in shallows breaths, she nods feverishly.

_A scary jerk._

And then everything turns black. No warning, no explanation. Just a big Void, stretching out as far as the eye can see. Yellow and blue sparks dance before her eyes, but she chalks it up to be a side effect of her sleep-deprivation. They disappear almost as quickly as they came, leaving Tana at a strange place. Seriously confused, the woman blinks several times not knowing if she's imagining things.

“What the…”

“welcome ta da ruins bucko. home ta the _stone_ cold don. now, whatcha say ‘bout savin’ that sista o’ yours?”

The Ruins. Sans had just teleported _three_ people at least 4 miles.

 _Raven was right then. This skeleton really_ is _stronger than you might think._

 

* * *

 

_Stay determined Frisky. Stay. Determined._

Wait – where is she again? Oh yeah, that’s right. She’s inside some kind of building with her old guard and Adrian’s girlfriend.

Her hand is slightly buzzing with numbness when she moves it to her head. Sleepiness is harder to fight than the pain, but she’ll be damned if she gives up. First of all, she’s the one who should be controlling the situation. Caleb and Emilia are both – technically – under her authority, since she’s highest up in the hierarchy. Secondly, she can’t rest until Tana is safe.

_Take control. Give the order._

Before giving it, though, she takes in a raspy breath. _Then_ she does it, and her companions express their disagreement, but to no avail. Even if Frisk was on the verge of death, her words would be final.

Caleb supports her side and Emilia leads the way. Their pace isn’t very fast, but it will have to do for now.

“We have to get Tana before the monster mafia arrives. I do not want to get catched in their crossfire!” She yells over the sound of an alarm. Frisk politely ignores her speech impediment. At first Frisk thought it was a fire alarm, but Emilia explained it was used for chemical magic-break-outs. The mere thought of such a thing would chill her, had it not been for the fact that her body feels like it’s overheating. Her desperate need for water aside, Frisk realizes what Emilia just said.

_The monster mafia? Does that mean…_

“The Gasters?!” The tortured woman almost chokes on a cough but pretends it didn’t happen. Emilia looks at her and chuckles.

“I gave them this address, so they can cause a distraction while we get out.” Which is a fairly clever plan. Frisk can’t help but wonder who the hell this woman is, since she’s smart and accustomed to these kinds of situations. Also, is she wearing heels? And _running?_ What a legend.

_If the Gasters are coming, we’re safe. Sans wouldn’t hurt me, and neither would Papyrus. This just got a whole crapton better!_

But then a picture of a crying bunny surfaces. Erica. And Frisk plots a new plan inside her mind, carefully asking Emilia layout-centered questions.

“It would not be smart to escape with many people. Uh, how do you say? Non si é troppo prudenti…” While looking for the right translation, the woman furrows her brows and gains a faraway look. “One can never be too prudent? …Yes, that sounds correct.”

“Is that the Italian equivalent of ‘better safe than sorry’?” Caleb laughs. Emilia nods slowly, before turning her head to watch where she’s running.

They’re making their way deeper into the building, which is apparently an old factory, when they encounter a different type of door. It’s made of some kind of shining metal, which seems newer than the rest of the surroundings. Re-inforced Buronamium, the young woman affirms. The metal is stronger than any other, to speak nothing of its magic-resistant qualities, so it makes sense to create a door made entirely of it.

 _Shit, just_ how _much money do these bitches have? That must’ve cost a small fortune!_ _The trip underground is dangerous as hell and the metal can only be found in the old Waterfall region._

“Caleb, get us inside.” Frisk orders. Wasting time on goggling a _door_ isn’t exactly on her to-do list. Emilia shakes her head in amusement and lets out a small giggle. From her purse she pulls out a key card, which she runs through a terminal.

“There is no need for violence. I came prepared, even though I did not plan on this,” the tall brunette admits. The door slides open with a _whoosh_ , and the three humans step inside the huge room, which has an annoying crackling sound coming from somewhere.

The space is somewhat alike to a lab. The grey epoxy flooring has a gloss to it, and the clean walls seem matte in comparison. Workstations are gathered along the right part of the room, with amountless of weapons, objects and liquids scattered across. Suctions hang overhead these stations, but all of it is bathed in the red light of the blaring alarm. Shelves with books and random science objects close off the area, because behind them are something nobody would want to look at while they’re working; large cages for test-animals. There are about seven of them, all big enough to house a tiger or a bear.

Frisk wrestles out of Caleb’s grip and scurries over to them. Her body protests against the motion, but the healing candies have started to take effect.

“Tana!” She yells, while nearing one of the nearest cages. Nobody answers. She calls out once more by the time she’s looked through all the metal prisons, but to no avail. There’s no human in any of those cages, only filthy-looking monsters with glassy eyes. In the face of loss, at least Frisk now knows where they brought the kidnapped monsters. Her heart becomes heavier than as stone while tears threaten to fall. The crackling noise is louder now, a welcome distraction from her own disappointment.

_Where is it coming from?_

“Caleb, Emilia, get them out of there. We’re taking them with us.” Her tone of voice reveals that there’s no arguing about it. The two humans walk at a fast pace over to where Frisk is crouching before a monster. Emilia is about to voice her dismay, for she knows how impossible it is to escape with 8 wounded and only 2 fully functioning people. Then she sees the look Frisk is sending the lying-down monster inside that cage. It’s a small, yellow kid, who resembles both a lizard and a snake. Its yellow and orange striped shirt is dirtied while its feet doesn’t have any shoes on. Some type of cogs goes from the middle of its head and down to its neck. It has no arms. The poor thing is in bad shape.

“Sweetie? Hey, you awake?” Frisk asks in the kind of voice she used on Tana when she was a child. It’s low and sweet, while laced with a layer of worry. The figure moves a bit at her question, but not much.

“Get him out,” she orders, sending a harsh look Emilia’s way. The woman obeys and looks for the bundle of keys in her purse.

“They use the same locks here, as they do for their… weapon room?” Frisk nods in understanding, “yes, the locks on the boxes are the same as the ones on the cages.” Emilia explains. When she’s opened the first one, she continues down the line. Caleb helps the fatigued child out, so Frisk can examine it. A see-through tube goes through his chest and transports some kind of yellow liquid into a container on the outside of the cage. About a single drop drips into it every 10 seconds.

“I advise against staying here for too long. I doubt they’d look for us here first, but sooner or later they _will_ come here,” warns the tough guy. He sends her a telling look, probably hoping that Frisk will listen to reason. Surprisingly – she doesn’t. When Monster Kid lies in her arms, she strokes his cheek with a gentle motion, but his eyes don’t open. Carefully she removes the tube, confounded thoroughly.

“Tana is not here!” Emilia interrupts Frisk’s examination when all cages are opened. “We should leave them for the monster mafia to find.”’

“We can’t leave them. At least not Monster Kid-“

_Eerina. She might be here too._

“Hey, did you find a rabbit?” Emilia nods and points to a cage close to MK’s. Frisk instructs her guard and the woman to take out the tubes on all the monsters, since whatever they’re for, it can’t be good. Tenderly, the child becomes placed on Caleb’s jacket, while she pulls out the bunny. She looks a lot like Erica, the only difference being her fur color; it’s purple.

“Ms. Marchetti it is not possible to help everyone. La troppa bonezza finisce nella monnezza.” The Italian doesn’t translate, leaving Frisk and Caleb two question signs.

“Now what does _that_ mean, lady?” Caleb asks on behalf of them both. The woman furrows her brows until she has the translation ready in her mind.

“Too much goodness ends in the trash,” a proud expression finds way to her face, apparently satisfied with it.

“I don’t get it…” Caleb whispers, turning his back on them both to walk over to the door.

_Don’t worry, I don’t either._

The guard leaves the lab to keep watch.

The bunny is conscious, unlike the kid, so Frisk tries speaking to her. “ _Are you Eerina?_ ”, “ _Can you stand up?_ ”, “ _What’s up with the tubes_?”.

Yes. Barely. The tubes extract the magic from their souls.

“Your souls? What does _that_ mean?” The book she got from Mr. Baklavas would come in handy right about now, provided that her stuff still is in the rented room. Alas, her only source of information is weaker than herself.

“Did… did my sister send you?” The bunny’s dry voice is barely hearable.

“Yes she did. You’ll get home to her soon, I _promise_.”

 _Whoosh._ The sound of the lab door opening. 

“Uh… Frisk? We have a tiny issue here…”

“What?”

“Dominic is two corridors away and he’s got plenty of backup… I think he’s mad at us for killing his brother. It’s just an idea I have-”

“ _Shit_. Emilia take Eerina, I’ll take the kid, and Caleb you watch our backs!”

The laboratory turns into a hurricane. All three run around the room, gathering what they need to. As much as it pains Frisk, she knows it’s absolutely suicide to try saving the rest of the monsters. If they get caught everyone will die, but this way at least some will survive. With Frisk carrying Monster Kid over her shoulders, (ouch), and the italian supporting Eerina, they hurry for the exit. Lucky for them they have Emilia, otherwise they would’ve gotten lost. Frisk’s body protests against the weight she carries, but something isn’t letting her give up. It feels as if her panting is louder than the alarm, but that’s not true, of course. Caleb is as watchful as a hawk, which gives her an idea for a new nickname.

“In here!” Their tour-guide exclaims, while pointing towards a pair of doors. Frisk’s shoulder is aching from the pressure and almost drops the child out of exhaustion when Caleb closes the doors behind them. They’re in some kind of office? How great. Exactly the exit Frisk has hoped for. About two stories above ground and with no fire escape, Emilia clearly made a _big_ mistake leading them in here. When she tells her, Emilia merely shrugs with a confused look.

“I swear, this had a fire escape two days ago!”

“What happened then? Did it grow wings and fly away?” She asks sarcastically. Her mood has gone sour, and it’s definitely not helping that the pain is winning over the numbness.

Eerina and Monster Kid end up on a couch, while the three others brainstorm genius ideas. But honestly, even a decent one will do at this point. Stars dance before Frisk’s eyes now, which is a really bad sign.

“I don’t feel so good…” She mutters. Caleb is at her side in an instant before she can lose balance. The other woman hears some activity outside the doors and therefore quickly pushes everybody behind the couch, which faces towards a fireplace.

Not even a dozen of seconds go by before the door breaks open and the drumming of running feet scatter across the room. Dominic and 6 other men line up against the wall with the door, effectively blocking off their exit. Caleb puts a finger on his lips to signal Eerina to stay quiet, but it doesn’t matter anyway. Light-headed and with the returning urge to throw up, Frisk tries to support herself by grabbing the coffee table, but ends up pushing it slightly instead. All 7 heads whip around to where the sound came from. Dominic smiles devilishly when he sees who made it.

“Ah... Look who we have here… Felicia and Emilia, my favorite girls,” he lets out an unpleasant laugh before continuing, “and here I thought you already left. What a nice surprise, ladies.” His eyes slide over the women and land on the only man in their group. Caleb.

“I want the man killed. Let’s use the test-subjects as a bargain-chip should the monsters show up in here.”

“Sir, what about the traitor? Shouldn’t we kill her too?” One of the men asks. He’s got very dark skin, dreadlocks and is wearing an orange hoodie with a pair of baggy pants.

“You know what?” he purses his lips and squints his eyes, “kill all three. Start with the brown-haired one.”

“No!” Frisk yells, trying to use herself as a shield for her two companions. After sacrificing so much to save her, there’s no way in hell that she’ll let them die. Two men seize her burn-covered arms, causing her to whimper in pain.

“Let her go!”

“Stronzi! Do not harm her!”

In spite of Emilia’s- and Caleb’s instructions, neither of the men release her from their tight grip. A faint scent of spirits comes from under the door, but nobody notices. Except Frisk.

Blossoming on her face is a smug smile.

“Oh, you’re in for a _bad_ time, fellas.” Frisk turns her head sideways, so Caleb better hears her next words. “Whatever happens, get those two monsters out of here alive!” She can’t see if he nods or not, but she knows him well enough to be sure he’ll follow orders. The room is starting to spin before her eyes, her legs weakening. Those holding her nod to Dominic, but Frisk isn’t afraid. She wrestles backwards for safety, forcing idiot 1 and idiot 2 to take a couple steps backwards as well. Perfect distance from the door. She waits. For five whole seconds – actually – probably a record. Behind her is Emilia, muttering several phrases in her mother language, which Frisk is pretty sure aren’t very nice.

_Now._

How well-timed. The thought barely manifests before the door explodes, causing wood to scatter across the office. Only a small piece hits her leg, she is otherwise unscathed. Dominic's remaining 4 men aim their firearms at the new threat, but they could’ve spared the energy it took. It's hard to hit a teleporting target.

“i thought i’d find ya here, buttacup.” The smirk transforms into a full-blown grin. The dizziness, her pains… all of them fade into the background when she lays eyes on him. He _is_ rather gorgeous when playing the role of the hero. Happiness engulfs her, but then a woman behind him steps forward.

“Tay!”

Then, she’s purely ecstatic. So ecstatic, actually, that she first notices the gun at her head when Dominic cocks it.

 _Tell me, God,_ why _is it that I’m this unlucky?_


	11. Breaking and Entering

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the wait, and thank you for being patient! <3 I flew to Miami on a study trip this Tuesday, and boy have I been busy. I struggled a lot with this chapter, so it's a big mess.  
> You have been warned.

“…because it feels like you’re just using her as an excuse to get back your _freak-buddies_!”

It takes the girl a second to realize her mistake. Sans is immediately up on his toes. Nobody, not even Papyrus or his father, speaks to him in that manner. Correction; nobody speaks to him in that manner and _lives_. He feels his smile grow tense and it won’t surprise him if his eyes have gone dark.

“I-I’m so sorry Sans, I didn’t mean-“

“W h a t. D i d. Y o u. S a y?”

It takes every bit of his self-control to not do anything rash. His phalanges form two respective knuckles per reflex, however the skeleton quickly and forcefully relaxes his hands.

_Calm down. The buttercup won’t be pleased if I harm her sister._

All caught up in his thoughts, Sans doesn’t hear what she says. Not that he cares at the moment, anyway. Eyes wide, mouth a thin line and brows raised in fear, the girl doesn’t look like the daughter of Marchetti’s consigliere. She even gulps nervously!

What a wimp.

_She really shouldn’t be in this business if she’s on the verge of crying, at the slightest inconvenience. This occupation demands tough skin and a cold heart. She doesn’t have either of those things!_

She gains partial control over herself, creating a somewhat neutral face, but the tenseness moves from her expression to her hands. Every time she bites a nail, Sans gets the urge to blast something. The presence of his brother behind him and the memory of Frisk underneath him, as he teased her, are the only things keeping him from freaking out.

“I d-didn’t mean it like t-that…“

_The way her hair ruffled around her on the bed._

“It’s just I completely forgot you can teleport…”

_Her way of carrying herself, like she’s ready for everything the world can throw at her._

“All this worry for my s-sister got to me, and I… lashed out.”

_A smile that beats all else._

“God, Sans, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have said that…”

_Defiant glares when she disagrees._

The memories help soothing him. This woman has an effect on him he’s never experienced before. Is this what it feels like between his brother and Mettaton? Perhaps he should lay off with his teasing then…

A bony hand reaches out and falls upon his left shoulder. With his brother arguing for sparing the human, Sans finally comes down to earth. Only a tad of irritation remains now. The girl avoids eye-contact in an attempt to show regret.

“ya right bro. i’ll jus’ have ta wait until afta we’ve taken care ‘f the alonsos.” The skeleton makes sure to keep his voice factual and calm which obviously puts Tana even more off.

Then he takes a couple steps forward and grips her arms tightly. He’ll let her off with a warning, since the kid isn’t too bad.

“but if ya ever talk shit about my kind again, or questions my relation to frisk…” He whispers, making sure Papyrus won’t hear,

“Y o u ‘ l l  b e  d e a d  w h e r e y o u  s t a n d."

She nods feverishly and it ticks in her hand to bite her nails again. Sans notices, although she most likely doesn’t.

_We’ve wasted too much time here already. Time to get a move on._

Gathering magic from his soul, the monster makes sure his grip on Tana is secure and that his brother is holding onto him as well. When he teleports the darkness fills him entirely. When they land in the Ruins, night has fallen. From where they stand, in a dark alley without any light at all, stars can barely be made out in the sky.

_When did I last look at the stars on Mount Ebott?_

Yellow and blue sparks dance around the three figures, an aftereffect of his power.

“What the…”

“welcome ta the ruins bucko. home ta the stone cold don,” he points to the cobblestones, purposely throwing the pun in there as a way to offer peace, “now, whatcha say ‘bout savin’ that sista o’ yours?”

_Dominic will suffer for this. Nobody hurts a monster or my friends and gets away with it._

 

* * *

 

  
The caged iron-ladder goes down. Not very slowly.

“paps watch out!” he yells, pushing his brother out of harm’s way. The fire escape lands with a painfully loud _clang_ on the pavement, just a dozen inches from where the two skeletons and a human are standing. The human aims a weird-looking gun at the tallest target but doesn’t get time enough to pull the trigger, before a second human lands on him, feet first.

“Ouch!” Tana complains, when she lands rather clumsily on her butt. Underneath aforementioned body part lies the guard unconscious. “Well there goes that sneaky entrance…”

“OH MY! ARE YOU OKAY, HUMAN? DID YOU FLOAT IN THE AIR AFTER THE LADDER FELL DOWN, SO YOU COULD LAND ON THE UNPREPARED SCOUNDREL? WHAT A TECHNIQUE!” Tana winches in pain.

“I’m peachy… When he shot the screws so the fire escape went down, I jumped onto a window ledge. I think I scraped my hands on the bricks…” She complains, not entirely happy about her situation. Under normal circumstances she would’ve done this with her sister, and Frisk would never have let Tana hear the end of this, had she witnessed it.

“ _You need to stick the landing better, or you’ll break your tailbone someday! Dammit Tay, do you want to end up in a hospital?”_

In this absurd situation, the thought of her didactic sister tugs at the corners of her mouth. Maybe she’ll tell her this story when they reunite. With a fabricated nailed landing of course.

“odds are someone heard. we need ta move ‘nside ‘fore they find us.”

Holding hands with each other, Sans, Tana and Papyrus teleport inside the building. Sans’ plan to sneak inside by using a fire escape has been foiled completely, so he’s forced to go with dangerous plan B; teleport inside the building and hope for the best. Many things can go wrong when teleporting somewhere he hasn’t physically seen. First of all, it’s not certain that he’ll teleport them the exact distance he wants to. Second, accidentally teleporting inside an object, for example a wall, would force it to break apart, or – when denser objects – suffocate him. When new atoms, those belonging to Sans and whoever he teleports with, takes the place of old ones, those belonging to the wall, natural law states that the old atoms will try to make space for the new ones. This happens when Sans’ magic charges the atoms with energy, causing them to break away and apart, mimicking a small explosion of the matter. He could end up inside a big object suffocating if the material can’t be fully charged by his magic to ensure available space. An example of this could be Buronamium and Platinum. Whereas Buronamium is totally immune to his magic, Platinum is too dense in most cases to be properly moved. When the first atom is hit by a charge of Void magic, it will send a wave of it unto the next atom, and so on until all energy is used up. In a metal such as Platinum, where the density is very high, too many atoms have to be moved by a single charge of magic. If all the energy is used up before the outer atom has been moved away, the material will simply bulge a bit and trap Sans inside, resultantly killing him by lack of oxygen. That is, if he doesn’t teleport away first.

So, yes, it’s a gamble when he uses his magic like this. And yes, he is risking not only his own life, but Papyrus’ and Tana’s as well. But is he faithful enough in his own experience to try anyway?

Yes. Yes, he is.

When the colored world shows itself again, the group finds themselves falling at a rapid pace. Had Sans been a human, his body would be pumping adrenaline like his life depended on it. Which, come to think of it, is probably happening to Tana right now. The moment seems to last a lifetime, just like when movies go in slow motion. Sans doesn’t notice as much as he would’ve had it been a movie, because – frankly – panic and clasping Paps’ and Tana’s hands quickly takes over his focus. Tana screams in fear, Papyrus yells for his brother…

Sans doesn’t even have time to answer in the slightest. Although he isn’t exactly scrutinizing where they’re landing, some things are starkly clear to him:

1) There are about 3 seconds before they hit the ground.

2) This is a huge space of room, with old machines and technology towering from the floor like spikes and deathtraps.

3) Wherever “here” is, it’s crawling with unfriendly humans, who probably keep impressive guns with them.

Sans’ soul thumps incredibly fast with the need to do something. He’s the only one able to-

“AH!”

 _Shriek_.

“whew.”

The sparks, from Sans’ teleportation, dance mindlessly around them. Tana immediately starts whimpering over falling twice in the space of 5 minutes.

“Jesus Christ almighty, this hurt like a truck I tell you!”

“i know bucko. i was there when i teleported us ta the ground. yer welcome by the way.” Sans’ eyes seek out his brother, who is dusting his cream and black suit off. “paps, ya okay over there?” This merely earns a groan and a pissed off nod.

“METTATON BOUGHT THIS FOR ME YESTERDAY, SANS! YOU BETTER HOPE THIS GOES OFF IN WASH.”

“isn’t it a bit… _shallow_ to care more ‘bout yer clothes than our wellbeing? i mean… it just doesn’t quite _suit_ ya paps…” Papyrus sighs in defeat. He helps the still-pondering-whether-it’s-appropriate-to-complain-or-not human to her feet with a surly look. The moment is ruined when a squeaky voice starts screaming.

“MONSTERS! SOUND THE ALARM! EVERYBODY GO FOR YOUR GUNS!”

The skelebros and Tana exchange shocked looks. Oh, yeah. Sans forgot the room is filled to the brim with Los Amparadores scum. Yes, a good fact indeed to remember in a situation like this. In his defense, it’s hard to keep track of everything, when falling with a mortified human girl.

Tana goes for a gun on instinct, but then she remembers she hasn’t got any. Papyrus summons a huge cartoon-looking legbone looking like it’s from a T-rex or something, it’s that big.

Sans? Well… he does nothing. The monster just stands there with a comfy smile, weighing how many odds are against them right now.

“say… ya wouldn’ happen ta be hiding sunglasses on yer person, ‘ey kiddo?”

“I’m sorry, what? Why in the name of God would I do that?” Sans shrugs. Papyrus takes out two pairs of sunglasses from nowhere in particular and holds one pair out to her. She takes them with severe confusion, but nonetheless wears them. The skeleton does the same.

“what a nice day…” Sans’ eyes turn into two scary voids. “ta be reuniting wit’ family.” Blue and yellow flames ignite in his left eye, the right gone completely black.

“STAY BEHIND ME, TINY HUMAN.”

“I-I… I’m taller than most…”

Bullets go flying but none actually hit their target. Screams and orders pounce in between the humans. The machinery once used by mages to create advanced technology lights up in a red light from a blaring alarm. Sans stretches out his arm in a dramatic gesture, his smile a wicked one. In front of them, 3 Gaster Blasters appear in clouds of his signature sparks.

“hang on tight, buddy.”

Shock and fear erupt from all humans, Tana included, causing them to scatter like surprised birds. Papyrus has an arm around the girl to make sure she stays and doesn't become hurt. He nods to his brother as a response to his unspoken question. They’re ready. The goons from the opposing family are fewer now, but that doesn’t make them smarter. Humans have always sought protection in flocks, an ancient instinct not easily overcome.

They go together in groups and aim their guns at the big skeletal heads floating in the air, but the damage is minimal – if it’s even there.

“get dunked on.”

The heads open their mouths, where balls of white light are growing at a fast rate. When they have grown into the size of a couple basketballs, rays shoot from where the basketballs once were. Sans’ eyes are used to his magic’s strong light, but to humans and other monsters it’s completely blinding. If Tana and Paps hadn’t worn sunglasses and shut their eyes, the light might’ve been too much for them to handle.

The laser beams make loud buzzing noises, but the skeleton doubts it can be heard outside of the main space they’re in. Work booths, conveyor belts, light-weight machines… They all turn to dust in an instant. If a human is hit, they’re dust.

 _How does it feel when you’re on the other end_?

He repeats the Gaster Blaster process a couple of times, until all previous Alonso followers are either gone or dead. The premises are a complete mess.

“YOU CAN OPEN YOUR EYES NOW.”

Tana opens her eyes unwillingly with a tight grip on Papyrus’ shirt. “What is that? What were those skeleton thingies? Did they do this? Did we win?” She takes in a deep breath before releasing her grip on the skeleton. “How many people have you used them on?”

The brothers exchange weirdly lamentable looks. A skeletal hand lands on her shoulder in a comforting manner.

“TOO MANY. BUT NONE WHO DIDN’T DESERVE IT.”

Tana becomes slightly uncomfortable but recovers quickly. With Papyrus’ hand on her and Sans guarding them like a watchdog, they start moving through the dust and ruined machinery.

“So, uh… not to doubt your powers or anything,” Tana looks around in awe, “but shouldn’t we get backup?” The skeleton in front of her starts snickering.

“’dyne an' da royal guard should be showin’ up soon. howsabout we look fer da lab in da meantime?”

They both nod. Walking out of the factory space and into some kind of hallway, the pattering of shoes and orders can be heard in the distance. Tana’s head whips towards the sound.

“That’s Dominic! I recognize that whiny-ass voice anywhere!”

“WHAT SHOULD WE DO BROTHER?”

There’s no answer from him in some seconds. It’s obvious that he is thinking through all options.

“let’s follow ‘im.”

Maybe that decision has something to do with the fact that he’s Frisk’s kidnapper. Maybe it’s because Dominic is the male heir to the mafia. Maybe it's none of those, and it’s simply because Sans wants Emmanuel to suffer like he did when his mom died.

Maybe it’s all of them.

 

* * *

  
“Not to be a bother, but are you sure this is a good idea?”

“i’m full ‘f good ideas.”

“But is this one of them?”

“i have a pretty good idea ‘f what ta do with ya if ya don’t shut up.”

“Rude…”

Tana falls back again, leaving the skelebros running first. They’ve followed Dominic up to a second floor, where they keep offices and hopefully the laboratory. The group is a good distance from Dominic’s, which consists of 11 people in total. Neither of the skeletons make any noise, but that human just has to stomp her feet and breathe heavily. Much is at stake today, however it doesn’t seem to affect Tana as much as it affects the two monsters.

The big-boned guy stops and peeks around the corner, holding up a hand as a sign to stay still. Dominic uses a card to unlock the giant metal doors further down the hallway.

“they stopped,” he whispers.

“That bitch isn’t here! How far can she get with a maltreated prat like Felicia?” Dominic curses. “What did they want in the fucking lab anyway? Everything looks intact.”

“Sir, they probably already escaped. Should we follow them or hide from the monst-”

“ _Hide_? I'm an Alonso. And Alonsos _do not_ hide.”

“Of course not.”

“But then what _do_ we do sir, if I may be so bold?” The new voice comes from an African-Landuish man wearing an orange hoodie and a pair of baggy pants.

“What’s going on?” Tana whispers in an expectant tone of voice. Papyrus’ quick reaction to clasp a hand over her mouth makes her shut up, though. Sans would send her a glare, had it not been for the fact that he is trying to concentrate on what they’re saying.

“... not prepared to face the Gaster brothers. Father’s research isn’t done yet.”

Sans doesn't need to hear any more. Turning around, he signals to his comrade in arms to ready an attack. Then, to ensure Tana doesn’t get hurt, he points aggressively to the ground and then to her. And then he does it one more time, just to be sure she gets it. The girl seems insulted, but otherwise agreeable.

“now.” Sans says in a default tone, as if he’s talking about what he had for breakfast. 

Papyrus and Sans walk out from behind the corner, bones circling around them like white missiles ready for launching. The oldest monster smiles menacingly while the other repeats “ _nyeh_!” as he sends bones towards their enemies.

“RUN!”

“Fuck this, I’m outta here!”

“Regroup at the office!” Cut-throat Dom orders. Multiple men run away from the fight, leaving only the brothers, Dominic and two others. Seems like only the strongest are left. Oh, and Tana of course – she’s cheering from around the corner.

Sans manifests spear-sharp bones from the floor. Dominic barely avoids them with nifty movements. The two other humans – a grim-looking woman and a skilled shooter – watch Dom’s back as he leaves the same way as the rest.

“i’m givin ya one chance, an’ one chance only, ta surrender.” No reaction. “so take it while da offer’s on da table, capiche?” Not even the batting of an eye. _Welp… Can’t blame me for trying,_ he thinks, not really feeling any sympathy for them. He gives a warning to his brother and Tana.

Sans stretches out his hand, summoning the Gaster Blaster. Buzzing. Light. Dust.

And then Undyne shows up out of nowhere.

“Hey, PUNKS! You started without us!” Both skeletons turn on their heel to look at the fish. She’s dressed in her fighting outfit, which consists of a leather jacket, red t-shirt (with an anime character on it? That’s new), jeans and some brown hiking boots. On her belt, she’s wearing two gun holsters. She isn’t likely to use them. Cutting quite the intimidating figure, Sans is somewhat concerned for his health. He winks dismissively and shrugs with his palms up.

“c’mon ‘dyne… they were really _fishin_ ’ fer a fight.” She groans and face palms, completely done with his jokes. Then she complains over his inability to come up with new puns. Behind her is the doggo squad, all except-

“Do you like that little doggy? Yes you dooooo!”

All except Greater Dog. Who is currently laying on his back at Tana’s small feet. Petted by her. Nobody pays them any mind, except Doggo, who keeps an eye out for movement. He’s quite the impressive monster, actually; although he is somewhat blind, he can sense movement like a sixth sense. This comes much in handy when they’re out on jobs.

“What’s inside there?” The Dreemurr capo asks, pointing towards the Buronamium door.

“IT IS A LAB. WE SHOULD CHECK IT OUT!”

“On it!” Dogamy barks, resulting in his wife following him. The couple and Lesser dog goes inside, along with Sans and Undyne.

“Are those… cages? BONEHEAD! Take a look at this!”

“lolly, serivife, mr. and mrs. thumb and william are all here, but where da hell is mk an’ eerina?” The dogs go around helping all the kidnapped monsters out of their prisons. None of them are in good shape, but Serivife especially looks to be one the verge of death. Sans is just about to order the dog squad to return home with him.

“They left, most likely.” Says a satisfied voice behind them. All the monsters whip around in a startle to where Tana stands, just a few steps away. “Dominic was looking for someone. What if your insider already freed two of the monsters? Anyway, we should look for Frisk now, right Sans? Let's move it!”

The skeleton is torn. Now that the monsters have been found, they can return back to Snowdin. But Tana is right, Frisk, Eerina, MK and their insider are still missing. Where could they be? Not knowing if he’s making the right decision, Sans readies himself to seem authoritarian. Stern look on his face and striking a confident pose, the underboss catches all eyes one by one.

“here’s da plan.”

 

* * *

 

 

Using Doggo as a referee, they make their way towards Dominic. Tana is finally quiet as a mouse. Probably because they’re following _her_ idea. Despite his big figure, his steps are soundless.

“The movement is close now,” the monster points down the hallway, right at some double doors. “At least 10 people.”

“they must’ve gotten backup.”

“ _Or_ , it’s Frisk, Monster Kid and that other monster who’s missing.” Tana offers with a raised brow and hands on her hips. Growing up with a consigliere for a father is most likely what makes her mindlessly contradict the intimidating underboss. Regardless of the reason, it just isn't done. On instinct he opens his jawbone, ready to put her in her place.

“No!” A faint voice yells from behind the door. Suddenly he forgets about Tana.

 _That’s Frisk! What the hell are they doing to her_?

“doggo what’s goin’ on?!” A bony hand grips the guard tightly. It takes much self-control not to let his distress show.

“Let her go!” A new person yells. It’s a deep man voice.

“Stronzi! Do not harm her!” A woman. The voice seems familiar...

The dog pinches his snout to keep all scents out. It’s a frequently used trick he does to concentrate on movements. “Two big guys just seized a woman. I sense 5 guns moving.”

“that's a bit unfair.”

“For who?”

“them ‘f course. ya see, when i’m done wit’ those bitches they’ll be wishin’ they never laid eyes on frisk.” Sans watches Tana out of the corner of his eyes. It’s obvious by her tense stature that she isn't comfortable with his last comment. The relationship between the two is complicated; while Sans respects her purely because of her status as Frisk’s sister, he’s almost certain Tana only puts up with him to get her sister back. It’s clear to him that she doesn’t approve of any kind of romantic relation between him and her sister.

“i’m breakin’ in da door. stick ta da plan, capiche?” He eyes the girl down seriously. After several moments of this, she nods.  
When bones hit the hinges of the door and the wood scatter across the office, Sans steps inside with Tana and Doggo behind him. At the sight of his tortured human, the anger bubbles up inside him like acid. Her hair is falling in uneven tafts around her bruised face. Her tattered green dress, which she probably borrowed from Erica, isn’t doing much to cover her burns and blisters. In too many places the fabric is burned into her skin. Dried blood runs from her scalp and down her jaw. It itches in the skeleton to blast everyone with his magic, but he might risk hurting Frisk.

Two people are crouching beside the couch behind her: A woman, whom Sans recognizes to be Emilia Abbatino, and a young muscular man, who is bald.

“i thought i’d find ya here, buttacup.” Despite her rough treatment, she manages to grin at him. The action sends a tingling feeling through him.

He’s about to summon two bones to penetrate the two people holding her, when Tana disrespects orders. Apparently fine with ignoring Sans’ direct orders, she steps forward to look at her sister.

“Tana!” Frisk erupts. Before anyone can react, Dominic is behind Frisk with a gun pointed to her head. Her smile falters when she realizes what kind of a mess she’s gotten into.

Now this is exactly what Sans was trying to prevent. He sends Tana a scathing look, when she turns around with big, round eyes.

 _Now look what you did_ , it says.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OHMYGOD I FINISHED IT. And now so have you... Great.  
> Get ready to get pumped for the next chapter, because things will get heated. There will be action, romance, drama and jokes. Probably also some screaming and weird sibling reunion.  
> Stay tuned!


	12. Reunited

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took forever to write ohmygod... The chapter turned out completely fine, so don't worry. But I might advise you to read some of the first chapters through again, because I'm rewriting them. Some of the information given may be different, but if you don't have time that's fine.

Here’s a question for you: would _you_ be terrified for your life if somebody had a gun against your head? If the fate of your life depended on one single person, who may or may not like you? What if you throw a sibling into the mix too; one wrong move and guns will go off, potentially killing those you love? You don't need to answer. I know what you’re thinking.

Held captive by a mass of muscles and a trigger-happy gangster with an infamous reputation, Frisk is almost shaking in her boots.

_Dammit, I keep forgetting that I’m not wearing boots! I should really work on getting them back._

The very fact that Sans is here with backup is the one thing, and one thing only, keeping her sane. During her jobs from Thomas there would never be anything quite like this. Sure – the occasional douchebag or two would threaten to do something unpleasant to her if she didn't do what they wanted – but back then she would always have her ‘team’ behind her. Caleb mostly, but also his father, a woman called Keisha, some random guy whose name escapes her mind, and Larry. Flirty-Larry.

Honestly, not a very reassuring thought, but at least he knew how to handle himself in a fight. Being the best man Don Marchetti has recruited for some years, Larson is actually handy when in a sticky situation. More than a handful of times he has saved Frisk’s ass, and all of those he remembered to remind her of her ever-growing debt. Whenever she got out too deep her guys would have her back no matter when or where. But they’re not here. Well, nobody save Caleb. She probably shouldn't tell him that she forgot.

When Dominic grabbed hold of her, one of the two guys released her to grab Emilia instead. Two more left their spot at the wall to knock out Caleb. Poor guy.

Despite the terror chilling her to the spot, a warmth is spreading throughout her body. Tana is alive and well. Sans cared enough to come for her. Or, well, at least she hopes that’s part of the reason he came. One can’t quite know with that dapper skeleton of hers.

“Take a step back.” The chilling voice barks behind her. It takes everything in Frisk to keep down a shiver. The stiff fabric of his suit brushes against a burn, but she can’t feel it. A sign that the healing candies are doing their job. On the skeleton, standing in front of her, no sign of emotion is shown. Nothing but that constant grin of his. He does as he’s told but she notices how a hand goes behind his back.

“no need ta make this difficult, pal.” Sans retorts, moving both glove-covered hands in the air. Tana doesn't do as she’s told, what a surprise. The girl does the exact opposite: one step forward. Dominic pushes the gun into Frisk’s head in warning.

“ _don’t_.” A growl resonates from within the skeleton, shocking all nearby. His eye lights are gone. At first she thinks the words are for Dominic, but then it dawns on her that he’s talking to Tana. Surprise and fear hits Frisk’s sister and she takes two precautionary steps back. Finally. With the younger human safely beside Sans and the older in the hands of the enemy, he capitulates by putting his hands behind his head and going down on his knees. After firm instruction, Tana does the same with a reluctance.

_Just what is he doing? Does he want me to die or something?_

It is at this moment that a silence envelops the room with a tenseness. Of course, this is also the moment that Frisk’s stomach growls in protest. The embarrassing sound can't help but make her blush, but she blames it on her bad state. She grimaces and says, “I don’t feel so good.” Which is true. Ever since Dominic’s gun cocked, the room started spinning at a rapid pace. Frisk is no fool: she’s aware that it’s dehydration kicking in. The killer-headache pounding with a thousand hammers at her head doesn’t do anything to help her either. Time is running out, and she desperately wishes for a drop of water.

“I dare you! Harm her and I swear to God that all Marchettis will chase you to the end of the world!” Tana yells, probably provoked by Frisk’s state. Problem with Tana is, she’s got all of this energy that causes her to dive head-first into problems she should be approaching carefully. As a result of this outburst, some important information slips into the wrong hands. Alonso hands.

“Marchetti? Oh, amor mío, you’re one of theirs?” He purrs while stroking her with the gun. The motion makes her sick to the stomach. On Tana’s face realization shows. “I take it your real name isn’t Felicia then. Perhaps it’s Frisk. Frisk ‘The Kitty’ Marchetti, yes? What a _catch_! Oh, the fun the two of us will have avenging the death of my brother.”

Her stomach turns to ice when his free hand first caresses her breasts and then continues downwards. Sickening. She closes her eyes to lock out his touch.

_Just ignore it. Sans has a plan; I just know it. He won’t let anything happen to me._

Her hands fists, her mouth a thin line, and her eyes shut close, she tries to find a safe place away from Dom, somewhere he can’t reach. Her mind is the only such place nearby.

“Get your hands off of her! I’ll kill you – I’ll kill _all_ of you! I don’t need my dad, I’ll skin you alive, you hear me?!”

“tana. shut. up.”

“I wonder how much territory they’ll give for you. We don’t have family in Greenmay City but perhaps it’s time to expand a bit.” Dominic’s hand cups the round of her butt, and despite her attempts to ignore it, she fails. Nothing Thomas could’ve said would prepare her for this. No matter how much training, no matter how many speeches, there just is no preparing. She knows Dominic is doing this to get a reaction, and every fiber of her body is fighting to stay where it is.

_Don’t move. Don’t think. Don’t even speak._

“Bitch.”

_Or I can just call him a bitch. That works too. What is self-control anyway?_

Scathing light from the blaring alarm makes her squint when she opens her eyes. Maniacal laughter can be heard throughout the room.

“‘m gonna give ya one chance buddy. release da woman an’ we’ll be on our way.” The skeleton is still kneeling with Tana, but he’s looking scarier than ever. One of his eyes is burning with blue and yellow flames but the other is pitch black. Memories from the past days and its torture surfaces in her mind, causing her to live through the pain once more. When Dominic doesn’t stop going further down, it all becomes too much. She fears that if she doesn’t escape soon, insanity will take over.

 

* * *

 

There’s a fire burning within him. It’s consuming his entire being, his entire soul. Anger, anger, anger. It’s everywhere.

Sans is usually a pretty collected guy; in control of the situation. But something about her makes him willing to risk everything he’s worked for his entire life. As if it isn’t bad enough that Dominic has Frisk; now the bastard knows who she is too and gropes her like some kind of sex doll. The sight makes him want to dust something.

_I just have to wait a bit more. Doggo must have sensed my signal and told red-eyes to be ready by now._

Beside him Tana is dumbfounded. Clearly uncomfortable with this whole thing, her help is long gone momentarily. Sans has no idea of how skilled she is in fighting, but doubts she’ll do much good. His phalanges clench unwillingly, and had he been a fire monster, like Grillby, he would be fuming. Impatiently he watches as Dominic strokes her body. The body _Sans_ has already vowed to protect. If that brat doesn’t hurry up, Sans might just go ahead and be done with it himself. An act his father would be sure to disagree with. Afterall: if Sans loses control, the taint on monsters’ reputation will grow bigger. Fighting for a better world and maintaining a good image do not always go easily together.

As he grits his teeth in fury, he watches Frisk struggle with herself. Should she try to escape? Should she put faith in Sans and trust him to be her savior? Honestly, not even he knows if the human should do so.

Just when he’s heavily considering bringing out the Blasters, a blurry shadow runs on top of the rooftop across from the office.

_At long last Red-Eyes makes his appearance. About damn time for him to take initiative._

Disgust is written all over her otherwise beautiful face, and it’s all he can do not to bring out the big guns. For no obvious reason, Sans can’t seem to let this woman go. There’s something about her that he has yet to see in anybody else. To calm himself down, he repeats the exercise from earlier, which consists of thinking about Frisk the day he met her. It was clear to him that she figured out his profession in no time, and also that it scared her mindlessly. The only time he’s heard her cute voice stutter, was when she knew he wouldn’t let her go. Sans still remembers how oddly right it felt to touch her.

“tana ya should probably get down, the same goes fer you.” The skeleton makes eye contact with Emilia, hoping that Chara is in position already. Much to his satisfaction, all, Tana included, do as he says. When Dominic’s hand slides across Frisk’s hip, it’s almost as if something just clicks in Sans’ mind. The woman has shut her eyes closed and is awaiting her destiny. Whatever it might be, it’ll be determined over the next couple of minutes.

A phone rings. The ringtone is ‘ _Spooky Scary Skeletons_ ’, a favorite of the owner’s.

“can i answer that?” He says jokingly, already knowing the answer.

“Are you trying to be funny?” The Alonso asks with an unimpressed tone. Somewhat distracted by the ringtone, Frisk gets a small break from his unwanted advances. All part of his really clever plan. It’s Tana’s turn to do her small job.

“Frisky, remember the Tommy gun case?” The leading question makes the woman open her eyes abruptly, understanding reflecting in them. It also makes everyone else in the room on high alert, but it won’t matter anyway. By the time that they’ve figured it out, it will be too late. Sans’ grin turns slightly smugger. While Tana and Frisk make their escape, him and the others will keep Los Amparadores occupied.

The ringing tone stops. He watches as the caller readies his sniper rifle, aiming for the man holding Frisk. She knows what to do.

The woman immediately springs into action. Despite her injuries and almost-sluggish movements, she manages to move slightly away from Dominic. And that’s enough for Chara.

When the gunshot sounds in the office all hell breaks loose. Glass shatters on the floor.

The last male heir to the Alonso family falls to the floor, leaving Sans to send a bone right through the heart belonging to the man beside her. She stumbles forward with a determined look on her face. All the remaining humans start shooting guns with random targets. Tana grabs her sister and bails, running inelegantly out of the broken-down doorway. Doggo enters in their place.

The skeleton decides it’s time to get a little revenge on the mafia, and his signature colors cancels out the red light in the office. Now that Frisk and Tana are off to safety, Sans can finally let loose. Out of his peripheral vision he notices a figure trying to shake awake that one guy.

_They will be fine._

“close yer eyes, emilia,” he warns the figure, never taking his eyes away from the gangsters in front of him. He can only hope that she listens, but – to be honest – he doesn’t care as much about her as he cares about making sure Frisk is okay. The faster he’s done here, the faster he can check up on her. Doggo runs around the room keeping the enemy occupied while Sans readies his magic.

The Gaster Blasters, originally created by his father, manifests out of thin air. Crackling sparks of yellow and blue ballet around the room. After he’s activated them and left all of the Amparadores gangsters into dust, Emilia comes out from her hiding space behind the couch. Slowly, almost as if scared he’ll break her, she moves. The guy behind her is starting to gain consciousness again. Her face is adorned with awe and fear-induced respect.

“You are the infamous Sans Gaster?” She inquires, hands resting on her hips. “I thought that you would be… taller. Monsters are known to grow very long.”

“height aside, i can still kick yer ass any day.” She blinks in surprise at his aggressive tone. Then she smiles.

When the man behind the couch stands up, Sans eyes him down with a scrutinizing gaze and wry smile. “an’ who might this be?”

The man makes a show out of rolling back his shoulders to appear confident and proud. With his chest puffed out and his face in neutral folds, he nods to the couch which has its back to Sans.

“I’m the guy who helped save your buddies, over here. You should be grateful.” The skeleton fights with keeping his face a clean slate while hurrying over to the couch. Seeing Eerina and Monster Kid just as hurt as Frisk makes his metaphorical blood boil. Nonetheless it’s a load off his mind.

“ _grateful_? ya brought ‘em in danger by takin’ ‘em wit’ ya!” He exclaims, high on the anger rush from before. “what would ya do ‘f they got more hurt?”

The two men glower at each other, making Emilia feel ill-placed. Caleb opens his mouth in heated defense, but it isn’t him who answers Sans’ rhetorical question.

“I would rather risk their lives and ours than watch them wither away in those monstrous cages.”

Emilia, Caleb and Sans whip their heads to where the human enters. She’s leaning against a wall and her sister. Her eyes flutter open every four seconds or so, valiantly trying to stay awake. Instantaneously a desperate hope that she didn’t see what happened flutters in his mind. His job can be bloody and gruesome, none of which he wants her to see. Not that she hasn’t already seen such things, her background makes that rather obvious.

Although she handles herself well, it is no excuse to expose her to violent actions and bloodshed. Also, a rather selfish want that she sees him in a good light plays a part. Bigger than he wants to admit.

That selfish want comes from the same part of him as the one to examine her for wounds. Worry almost makes him forget to answer back.

“it was _your_ idea buttacup?!” He asks with genuine surprise. Not that he questions her morals or wish to help others, but how she managed to get them out escapes his mind. In her state escape would be almost impossible, not to mention gathering physical strength to find the lab _and_ get them out. Yes, it looks like she got help from the sassy guy and Emilia, however the factory is laced with guards and men from Los Amparadores. Or rather _was_.

Now that Sans has reassessed the situation, a possible solution presents itself. Emilia must be the spy who gave them the lead, knowing that their men would create the perfect distraction to escape on. Having easy access to every part of the building and a reasonable excuse to be there, she’s the greatest chance of Frisk’s escape.

He goes out on a limb and guesses that this man is from the Marchetti family, sent by superiors to ensure the safe return of Thomas’ oldest daughter. The thought still feels strange to him; his sweet human a mobster too.

But where is the rest of the backup they sent? Surely this person isn’t the only one – that would be much too foolish. Are they already dead? Killed by the relentless Amparadores gangsters? Sans finds himself hoping that they are. A stone-hearted thought brought by the result it will have on Don Marchetti. Deaths would mean a need for revenge. A need for revenge would mean a lust for blood. The lust for blood would mean a powerful ally in the battle against the Gasters’ rivaling mob.

And if this is the only man they sent? Then his death will be quick, and the blood spilled will be for a good cause.

Frisk looks at him expectantly as if awaiting an answer. Sans has been so caught up in his mind that he didn’t hear her at all. He went ahead of himself again in regards of his plans of murder. There might be no need to kill this man, so he needs to relax. If he seems as if he will kill the nearest person, Frisk won’t ever trust him.

“repeat that fer me, sweetheart.” She sighs dramatically. Her need for drama costs her pain. When sighing, her chest must burn from her injuries and it makes her wince in agony. Sans can almost feel her pain as if it was his own.

“I said, that _yes_ it was my idea. If I could, I would’ve taken them all with me. But Caleb and Emilia didn’t let me-“

“Because it was a _stupid idea_!” The man, named Caleb, interrupts. He looks at least twice as worried for her health as Tana does, causing a wave of sickening jealousy in Sans’ bones. _Not the time and place_ , he directs himself. There will be time to deal with Frisk’s relation to this… _Caleb_ in the future. Now he needs to teleport her to Alphys or Toriel, and quickly.

“alright. then i have sum good news fer ya. ‘dyne an’ paps just got ‘n a car outta da city wit da other monstas. we meet ‘em back at hotland.” He moves to get an arm around her waist and one of hers around his shoulders, but 3 angry humans stop him. Tana speaks up first.

“There’s no way in God’s name, that I’ll let you teleport off with my sister! She needs to go back home and that’s now! Like, right this _instant_!”

Caleb stands in front of Frisk, Tana supporting her, and Emilia carefully reaching for a gun on the edge of his sight. _Like I won’t notice_ , he scoffs mentally. Impatiently he brainstorms how to get her out of here the fastest.

“I have direct orders from Don Vincent Marchetti to get her home as soon as I acquired her from Adrian. You will not stand in my way, skeleton.” Lacking the proper way to say this in English she proceeds with, “o mangier questa minestra o saltar questa finestra!”

The monster recognizes this language to be Italian. Not very surprising, considering that she comes from an Italian mafia in Rome.

“’m not teleportin’ her all da way ta greenmay. she needs magic-medical attention, an’ ya won’t get that anywhere ‘sides ‘ere!” Nobody moves a muscle.

Should push come to shove Sans won’t hesitate to use force. It must show on his face since both Caleb and Tana blanches in fear. The young man hurriedly toughens up. With squinty eyes and a pull on his mouth he puffs out his chest.

“Thanks for your help, but Frisk is our responsibility, not yours, and nobody asked you to teleport her. Now. Back. Off.” He sneers. Sans doesn’t bode well with threats.

“back off?” The gloved hand grips his shoulder tightly in a show of strength. “buddy. i’m just trying ta help. it’d be wise ‘f ya ta take it instead ‘f getting’ on my wrong side.”

_Keep it together. You can beat his ass when Frisk isn’t looking._

“Listen here, _buddy_ : there’s no way in hell that you’ll be taking a Marchetti into Gaster territory. You’ll never let her go.”

“yer right. i won’t.” Caleb gapes at his admittance in the seconds he uses trying to look for a good answer.

_But that’s because I’ve got plans for her and myself._

“Guys let’s get going!” Tana quickly says, trying to break the conversation.

“okay. gimme da lady an’ we’ll be on our way.” An epic stare-down starts. Sans’ eye lights would burn holes in Caleb, had it been possible.

“ _Quit it_!” Yells a hoarse voice. It’s coming from Frisk. “I’m going with Sans, okay? He’s right, I need some healing magic.” Sans lets go of the man so Caleb can turn to look at her. Emilia has taken some steps closer but isn’t reaching for her gun anymore. She most likely realized it would be pointless anyway.

“But-“

“That’s final, and an order as your capo.” Caleb sighs in defeat with Tana. Somewhat surprised at the revelation that Frisk is a capo, although not showing it, Sans offers her a hand. She hesitantly takes it, but it isn’t because she’s scared. Her body must be tired and broken down by now.

Since Tana, Caleb and Emilia isn’t stopping him, he decides to do something bold to reassure them of how superior he really is. His first plan was just to teleport with him holding her hand, but now he picks her up – as if she was a bride – in his arms. His suit is terrible padding against poking bones, but there’s nothing to do about it now. He walks over to Eerina and Monster Kid, and the bunny puts a paw on both of them.

Before he leaves, he has one last question.

“How did he catch you anyway? Your plan was flawless.”

Emilia grimaces and scratches the back of her head.

“We got trapped in here,” and seeing his questioning look she adds, “I swear that it had a fire escape right outside that window!” She points to the only window in the office to illustrate.

Sans deadpans. Had he been a human sweat would dripple off him like a river. His mantra of ‘think about ketchup’ is going like a record in his head.

“uh, a fire escape ya say?”

“Yes, but perhaps it was in a different office… I just could have sworned that it was in here!”

“right…ah, i’ll drop ‘er off an’ come back fer ya.” Emilia nods, but Caleb sulks in the corner. Sans doesn’t care. “but… maybe don’t look down on the street, yeah?”

When the blue and yellow sparkles float around the room the humans are left with a perfectly normal office save two things:

One, the space is completely ruined.

Two, a dog and the body, which lied on the floor previously, is now gone without anyone’s noticing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many readers don't leave kudos or comments. I simply can't encourage you enough to leave a comment or kudos to show that you enjoy this story, since it means a lot to me! Not just me, but any writer really. Come on, show some support to your awesome fanfic writers. We really love it when people like our stuff and tells us.  
> Have a great day <3


	13. Bad Memories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back to the story!  
> I haven't read this through, I powered through the entire thing like at 3AM. Any words spelled wrong or mistakes will be changed in the near future, don't worry.

The bone underneath her fingertips is smooth and warm. Rhythmic moans escape her lips in pure ecstasy. Above her his big body is encircling her, a body of calm, yet impatience. One of his hands is gripping her hair, the other down between her legs. When his phalanges hit just the right spot her mind melts into oblivion. She wishes for something more than that inside her – something bigger, something hotter...

Just because he lacks a dick, doesn’t make him any less irresistible. It makes the wanting much, much worse.

The room they’re in is blurry, but that doesn’t matter. The focus is on them, their rhythmic movements, their soft moans and names spoken out loud.

“do ya like that sweetheart?” he whispers.

Goosebumps travel across her skin at the question. Yes. Yes, she does. She likes it too much for her own good. She also likes it when he removes his fingers and his skull comes closer. Strong hands take hold of her eager hips.

“ _Yes_.” A moan.

A buzzing thing starts licking her entrance. The nerves there order her to moan once again in pleasure, so she happily obliges. He starts licking his way inside her, making sure to reach every part available to him. His tongue is amazing, _more_ than amazing. Its hot buzzing takes her to the edge of an orgasm. A jolting wave of pleasure hits, making her come while his wet tongue is still licking her. She moans to encourage him further.

This is exactly how she wants it to be. Here with Sans, enjoying his company. No mafia drama, no psychotic colleagues, no racism. Just the two of them entangled and completely together.

Oh, how she wants him. _All_ of him. His magic phalanges, his sexy smile… Her eyes close, everything goes black for a wholesome moment. But when she tries to open her eyes again it doesn't work. A cold panic spreads.

He disappears. Everything disappears. It’s dark, so terribly dark… Sans’ warmth is gone. The feeling he gave her, gone too.

Her eyes finally open, but the black doesn’t cease to exist. She’s been here before, although she can’t recall when.

Where is she? How did she end up here? What is going on?

“Greetings.”

She turns with terror chiseled on her face. A human stands before her, seemingly – like her – on nothing but darkness. The man’s face is framed by a brown bob, his cheeks lightly colored with life. But his eyes–

“Who are you?” Her voice is shaky with fear. Actually, her entire body is shaky with fear. Something about this man… He seems familiar. Like she’s seen him before.

“My name is not important. I have come to warn you.”

“Warn me about what?”

“If you do not stay out of New Ebott, you will get involved in matters that do not concern you. Take your family and _leave_. Do not come back,” he steps forward with a menacing look. “Ever.”

_That means leaving Sans. Leaving Erica. Leaving… everybody I’ve grown to like._

She’s come face to face with the most dangerous mafiosos in the world without batting an eye. She’s fought in battles where she was outnumbered and won. She’s even dealt with severe childhood trauma and turned it into a learning experience instead. This guy is more powerful and more dangerous than anyone she’s ever stood up against though, so much she knows. Something about his aura makes her tremble and sick to the stomach.

All the more reason why she can’t afford to seem weak in front of him.

Not much time passes before she answers flatly, “no. I won’t leave, not if they need me. I can tell Tana to leave with Caleb and Emilia, but I won’t abandon Sans.”

“I tried to play nice.” He says with a shrug. His eyes start glowing.

“What do you-“

Cut off by his sudden movement, she starts choking. His strong hands are around her neck. She gasps for air, needs to get away, has to fight him somehow–

“I’ll come for you. You and your sister.” The grip tightens. She tries to get his hands off, why aren’t they budging? Where is Sans? Where is everybody?

Somebody _save_ her!

“I’ll make you suffer. I’ll make you regret that you ever came back here.”

“Came back here? I’ve never even left Greenmay City!“ She tries to say, but nothing except gurgling sounds comes out. No air. She’s dying.

_Shit, shit, shit._

 

* * *

 

She’s gasping furiously. Air, she needs air!

“Frisk! Frisk, wake up!”

_Tana?_

“Come on! Breathe in, breathe out!”

_That’s right. She came to save me._

“Stay back! I got this, punk!”

Ice cold water is thrown all over her body. It brings deja vú with it. This has definitely happened before. Artic tiles, bathroom…

She sputters when water gets in her nose and mouth, not a nice feeling. At least she is able to breathe now. After she opens her eyes, she sees who threw the bucket of water in her face. A familiar blue face with sharp teeth and an eye patch stares her down. Frisk blinks to remove the blurry veil she sees everything through. While coughing, she looks around to orient herself. She’s in a bathroom, _again_ , but this time she’s lying on some blankets.

“Yeah, sorry about the hard surface… We got orders to give you a shower, but you weren’t waking up.”

Shivering with cold and shock, she realizes that it was just a dream.

Her heated encounter with Sans…

The creepy man who threatened her…

_What does that dream mean? Where have I see that man before?_

Tana is behind her, moving her hands up and down her arms to warm up Frisk. “How are you doing?”

“Not too shabby. I’m alive,” she jokes, wanting nothing more than Tana to leave her alone, despite being departed from her for so long. She doesn’t want her to worry, doesn’t want her to be the bigger sister. It was supposed to be Frisk who saved Tana’s life, not the opposite. Embarrassing. Belittling.

Her body isn’t hurting much anymore, although it’s awfully sore with the ache of torture. Now that her mind finally gathers that Tana is safe – and she isn’t restrained by her exhausted body – she reaches out in a hug. Her sister hugs back furiously, the warmth and familiar body doing wonders to Frisk’s mood. The nightmare is already forgotten for the time being.

They help her with basic needs. A monster brings a tray with food and water. Stripped from her clothes, Undyne and Tana helps her inside the shower, since she is too weak to stand up on her own. Her bandages won’t survive the bath, so Undyne carefully picks them off. Her wounds are mostly healed with the help of magic and Alphys, but her skin is still red and teared, with the occasional blisters. Still, she’d rather have the pain than the fussing.

Grime, dried blood and dirt stays on her body until Tana decides to use a soaped sponge. The two sisters have never been this close, at least not since they were at the orphanage. If Frisk didn’t acknowledge the fact that she wouldn’t be able to do this herself, she would be pushing them both away with willed force. With Undyne holding her underneath her arms, and Tana bathing her with necessary rough motions, Frisk slowly gains a somewhat normal look again. After shampooing her hair several times they help her out of the shower cabinet and dry her down. Placing Frisk on a vanity chair facing away from the mirror, her sister passes some clothes to her. It looks as comfortable as a cloud and wearing it feels amazing. The nightgown is red as a ripe apple. The extra two sizes makes it comfortable and easy to fit into, neatly pulled over her head by Tana.

“There’s some leggings as well, if you want.”

“Sounds fun. I’ll try it.”

The struggle of putting on leggings over bandages and damp legs takes just over 10 minutes. Honestly, it could be worse. She could have lost a limb, suffered from severe blood-loss, or even died entirely. All things considered she feels fine.

Albeit a bit tired. Very tired, actually. Did Tana mention sleeping? Frisk thinks she did. That sounds nice. She is slowly coming to realize how little she cares about looking good or feeling comfy, a bed is all that matters to her.

“Is there a bed nearby I can borrow?” She asks groggily. Yes, there is in fact a bed she can borrow right outside the bathroom door. Both the bedroom and bathroom are hers to use as she likes to, Undyne says. The Gaster brothers are generous and caring hosts, and on that account therefore offered both Tana, Frisk, Emilia and Caleb separate rooms. Tana starts talking about how Frisk just needs to ask if she needs anything, they will bring it to her in an instant.

 _Almost like being back home, huh? Nothing is too good for Thomas’ little_ girl _._

The thought almost makes her puke. The extravagant room almost makes her puke. Hell, even the babying almost makes her puke. She’s so tired of this, the constant worrying about if she’s too fragile. _For once_ , Frisk thinks, _I want people to treat me like I’m something more than a spoiled kitty._

Tana leads her to her bed, she isn’t hearing what her sister says, doesn’t care. With all the fear for Tana’s life gone, a new feeling resurfaces, one that just keeps coming back.

A feeling that if something doesn’t change soon, she might suffocate.

When her head hits the pillow she’s already on her way to dreamland.

  

Once she wakes up, Caleb and Tana come in to check up on her. Tana explains where she was that entire time, and Caleb reports the events that happened during her blackout. After some time Tana takes her downstairs to get some breakfast. It’s Thursday afternoon, about two handspan hours ago after she fell asleep. Wearing some clothes that would put even Angela’s closet to shame, Frisk couldn’t care less about what ornated her skinny body. She’s lost a lot of weight during these past days, but she’ll gain it again in no time. Usually all she has to do is be around fattening foods.

The first thing she notices, when she leaves her guest room, is the absolutely insane size of the house they’re in. _Well, it’s not called the Gaster mansion for nothing_ , she thinks in awe. Not even her foster parents have this big of a house, nor does Vincent. The white walls, the parquet floor, the simple yet elegant decorations, it all keeps stretching as far as her eye can see. The sight sparks a feeling in her, but it’s not a pleasant one.

_This place reminds me too much of Vincent’s home. The family gatherings he held there, the uncomfortable laughter and ‘grown-up topics’, which neither me nor Tana were allowed to listen to._

_“Go outside with your cousins and play,” Thomas would say._

_“I don’t have any cousins,” would be my answer._

_“Don’t make this difficult, kitten. Go before I get angry.”_

_And we would go. Tana would take my hand and lead me away from them. Out into the garden where we would play hide and seek with our ‘cousins’. They found me no matter how hard I hid, but I could never find them, could I?_

_I couldn’t hide then. How about now?_

“Sis, you okay? You’re more quiet than usual.” Tana brings her out of her thoughts. She shakes her head to clear it of the vulnerable feeling. Suddenly her eyes stings with tears.

_Why does this make me so emotional all of a sudden?_

“I’m peachy. Just thinking about something.”

“What?” She asks, recognizing the mood but not getting what she’s talking about.

“You wouldn’t understand, Tay. I don’t think you ever felt the need to hide. Not really”

 

* * *

 

Safe to say, their kitchen is as big as the sisters’ apartment. Frisk can’t comprehend why anybody would need, not one, but _two_ stoves, or so many cabinets. What do they put in there? Elephants? The entire ‘Supernatural’ series? No wait, that would be impossible with so many seasons.

In the middle is a kitchen island where she sits down. The room is awfully deserted and quiet, nothing like when they would visit Vincent. His house would crawl with associates and servants, and despite the big amount of space it felt cramped. _The Gaster mansion feels lonely_ , the capo decides. Not many sounds make it through the walls, only the distant rushing of a water fountain or perhaps a waterfall. A window overlooks – what Frisk only can assume is – the backyard. The rushing must come from there. Rows upon rows of neatly placed bushes and flower beds make up the first part of what she can make out through the window. Different paths of stone go through them, some even curving away and out of her line of vision.

While she dives into a mess of thoughts, her sister meanders around the room, looking for something to eat. Tana places a bowl of cereal in front of Frisk, who absentmindedly starts eating. On edge, but somehow still managing to feel safe, she almost expects Vincent to come barging in the door. When she tells Tana about this feeling, she bursts out giggling.

“I know how you’re feeling. Like, I miss him. Whenever we came to visit, he’d make his servants go get cookies for us. Do you remember?”

“I remember. I didn’t like them.”

“And then I would eat yours and get a tummy ache! Then Damon would get us and bring us out into the garden and play-“

“Hide and seek.”

“Yeah, it was so fun! I miss those times. But thank God I got over my crush on him, though. It was kinda creepy, considering we’re family and all.”

“You’re not family.” Their conversation starts going somewhere they have discussed a million times before. A pattern they have experienced too many times to count forms.

“C’mon Kitty-Cat, get over yourself. No matter what you say it won’t change the fact that we got adopted, and that’s a good thing. We ended up with someone who loves us!”

“Violence isn’t love, Tana. Violence is violence.”

“They did that out of love, though. We deserved those times, and you know it. We were pretty problematic kids.”

“You can’t justify hitting your children, adopted or not.”

“They didn’t hit us – they disciplined us. There’s a difference!”

“Yeah, there is, and they went over the fine line years ago, when they discovered our fears and used them against us. That’s child abuse, _not_ disciplining.” The cereal bowl stands empty before her, suddenly a very tempting victim to her anger.

“Mom and dad would never do that. They protected us, made us into strong women who can take care of themselves. If it hadn’t been for them, we wouldn’t have this tough skin-”

“THAT’S NOT HOW IT WORKS!” The bowl breaks upon impact with the tiled floor. It sounds awfully loud in the quiet room. The blonde girl stops talking immediately, looking down on the ground. Frisk sighs and buries her head in her hands.

“I’m going for a walk.”

She doesn’t stop Frisk when she leaves, body buzzing from the magic-infused cereal she just ate.

_“Go play hide and seek.”_

Out of the kitchen and looking for a way outside, she mumbles, “oh I will, _uncle_. Only this time around you won’t find me.”

  

* * *

 

_Where am I?_

Sunlight is blinding her eyes, concrete scratching her skin.

_I don’t remember anything at all._

Sitting up, the woman looks around blinkingly to orient herself. The alleyway she’s in is bathed in the midday light from the sun. Her clothes are covered in dirt and some kind of residue… Not remembering even a single thing from her life, she pats down her body for some kind of indication of who she is. Her back pocket on her trousers has something plastic and rectangular in it, so she takes it out curiously. It’s a driver’s license.

  1. Jürgensen
  2. Sofie
  3. Alter: 25 Jahre



     4a. 25.04.20xx              4c. Stadt Berlin

 

To the far left side is a picture of a face. Blue eyes, thin lips, mid-long brown hair.

_Is that me?_

The clicking of shoes on cobblestone reaches her ears. She looks up only to find two persons walking towards her. Their intentions aren’t good. She stands up slowly, eyeing them down cautiously. Stripped to their sides are – and there’s no mistaking it – two high-tec guns. Sofie recognizes them from somewhere, but she can’t quite put her finger on where. The men don’t talk, they search. Alarm bells goes off in her head, instinct kicks in, and she scurries away before they notice her. Sleepy legs carry her further and further away from the danger, hoping to whatever god she might believe in that nobody saw her. The never-ending labyrinth of city alleyways is a problem. She doesn’t know where she’s going, doesn’t know why those guys were in the alley, doesn’t know who she should go to.

Doesn’t know, doesn’t know, doesn’t _know_. It’s becoming too repetitive for her, and she’s only had amnesia for a total of ten minutes. This is going to be a nuisance. While running she catches sight of something red on her palm; blood. She should rinse it off soon, the thought of being dirty not seeming very appealing. Her head whips from side to side, constantly debating where to go, where to run, where to hide. She settles on going left because it leads into some kind of park. There are yellow bricks beneath her shoes and cherry blossom petals around the path.

_I need to find someone to help me. There must be someone here, right? I mean, this is a park, it should be filled with people._

As a matter of fact – it isn’t. Looking around she notices that nobody is around for miles. Even the big street she came from is deserted. This is too weird to be a coincidence.

Crossing the entire park takes a long time. Halfway she crosses a bridge. The river seems polluted.

_The Ebottian river._

The thought hits her hard, making her stagger for a moment. She knows this place and has been here before.

Then she remembers something else as well: why people aren’t strolling through here.

_I should run._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Conveniently placed driver's license is convenient.  
> I'm going to introduce some new characters whom I hope you'll welcome with open arms. If any of you feels like this story needs more comedic value, then Sofie is the character for you.  
> She's suffering from CDD. You get until next chapter to figure out what it stands for ;))


	14. Doesn't Remember

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm scrambling with this one. Oh it's messy.  
> But you get a bit more information about Sofie. A harmless character, right?

The sound of her shoes thunders through her head. Despite being sore and having a panic attack, she feels fine. Well, her body feels fine anyway, her fast-beating heart not so much. Because she doesn’t really know what’s going on, the terror is twice as bad, and it’s not making it better that gunshots fire around her unpredictably. Just a couple inches from the bullets, curving and ducking is the only thing keeping her alive. Adrenaline rushes through her veins, pumped by her drumming heart. Heaving for breath, no break or anything to lift the weight off her lungs is becoming tiresome. Sahara isn’t even nearly close enough to be as dry as her mouth feels.

It amazes her somewhere deep inside her busy mind that they’re able to shoot this far and precise. The distance is most likely what is keeping her alive, so she happily thanks the designers of the park. Only the slightest bit of sympathy for the trees and plants hit by passing bullets appears in the back of her mind.

A lifetime goes by before she finally reaches the end of the park. The path is bare and not hidden the least by trees, but at this distance the likelihood of getting shot is miniscule. Daring to venture out onto the yellow brick path leading into the maze of buildings, isn’t easy for her. With a pounding heart and clouded mind she discusses her options with herself.

Either she can stay in this park, officially neutral ground, and risk getting caught by the men who followed her.

Or she can take a risk and run for cover behind the buildings. The probability of injury isn’t too high.

She decides to run after sufficient thought. Aching legs aren’t nice to run on, but it’s much better than staying and waiting to get caught. Blades of grass buckle under her superior weight, and those who aren’t lying down are swaying in the cold spring wind. Besides her superficial breathing the only noise she can hear is the distant driving cars and the common buzzing of a metropolis. It makes her feel at home, which makes sense if she really is from Berlin.

Where she’s going, she doesn’t know. Why people are staring at her is probably the only thing she can say for sure why is happening. A bloodied maniac in dirty clothes running from something is sure to catch everyone's attention.

_I prefer the alleys over main roads and eyes on me._

Running wherever she feels like, half an hour passes. Stores, apartments and office buildings go by, fading into a blurry mess. She tries to keep track of any landmarks. She stumbles upon a fountain with a square figure spouting water. It somewhat resembles a robot with one wheel for a leg, and a TV for a face. Underneath it a sign says ‘METTATON SQUARE’. Twice she ends up there, twice she winces and looks for a different way to leave. This is becoming tricky. Just when she has decided to go down a shopping street she passes a bakery called ‘Muffet’s – Made for spiders, of spiders, by spiders’. It seems friendly, although a bit cannibalistic.

Behind the counter is a giant black spider wearing a puffy dress. A recurring theme is purple and pink, probably a favorite color of the owner’s. She has five eyes in a semicircle on her face, blinking at different times.

“Hello my sweet~ What can I do for you?” The spider asks in an eerie voice.

“U-uh…” Sofie hasn’t spoken in the duration of her amnesia, however it isn’t because she doesn’t know how to. If she actually knew where she was going she wouldn’t have turned to her last resort: asking for directions. The young woman doesn’t need to know much to come to the conclusion that she is socially awkward. The thought of talking to strangers doesn’t appeal to her at all, not to mention going into a foreign store to display just how helpless she is. She coughs awkwardly to clear her voice and gain a couple of seconds to gather her mind. She almost begins her sentence in German, too.

“Caffe latte, please.”

_Wait no, I was supposed to ask for directions!_

“Would you like that as decaf?”

“No thank you.”

_Now! Just ask her now!”_

“That’ll be 9999G~”

“…Say that one more time?”

“6G my sweet~”

_Oh great. Do I have any money on me? Gosh this is so awkward; I want to hide. Why can't I just ask for directions?_

She pats down her person for any indication of coins but doesn’t find any.

“U-uhm… I– actually I forgot my m-money…”

 _Just ask her for directions and_ get out!

The spider turns cold and disregarding. Her five eyes narrow in suspicion. One of her arms comes to hold Sofie’s chin in a strong grip.

“I don’t give out anything for free, darling.”

Panicking and lost for words, she finally sputters out, “I-I just need directions actually… My- Uhm… My name is Sofie, and I… Got kicked out from my home? …”

_What a great save._

“Is that so? Well, why didn’t you just tell me that? Ahuhuhu~” She removes her arm again while a hand covers her mouth as she laughs. She’s wearing purple gloves. Sofie hears the crackling of a fire behind her, but doesn’t make much of it. In such a bad state, it wouldn’t surprise her if she was hallucinating.

_Where do I need to go anyway? A hotel? I don’t have money. I need to find somebody who knows me!_

Five pointed eyes stare her down, “Sansy you’re early. Couldn’t wait to see me?”

“My name i-isn’t-“ Sofie is cut off by a deep voice, causing her to turn in surprise.

“we have a problem, muffet. my pops an’ mr. dreemurr sent me ta talk ta ya about this _sticky_ situation.” The voice belongs to a mighty skeleton wearing a fancy suit in purple and a stiff smile. 

_So that’s Sansy? He’s really creepy, oh god. I should leave now._

 “Let me just get rid of this lost puppy first, and I’ll be right there.”

“who’s this?”

“This is Sofie. She got kicked out at home.”

“U-uhm I don’t want any trouble. Y-you go on ahead and talk, I wi-will be on my way…”

“Nonsense dearie~ What are you searching for?”

“Someplace to stay… Uhm… More family?”

The skeleton sends the spider a telling look. She frowns in disappointment but nonetheless lets Sans take hold of one of Sofie’s arms. “kiddo, look at me.”

She looks at him with terror in her eyes, and a flash of recognition shows on his face. She has definitely seen him before somewhere, too. Is that good or bad? Should she trust him or run for her life?

“why dontcha stay wit me, yeah? i gotta nice room fer ya.” He smiles devilishly. The decision has already been made. Sofie is beginning to think they aren't friends.

“Wait no! –“

A flash of blue and yellow passes before her eyes, and a second later all there’s left is darkness. A Void.

 

* * *

 

For a mansion that needs cleaning personnel to keep it shiny, the space is awfully quiet. In the storm of her mind Frisk somehow managed to find way to the backyard gardens. This is not the place she saw from the kitchen with flower beds and figured bushes; there aren’t any stone paths or butterflies, no buzzing bees or talking monsters.

It’s peaceful and quiet, perfect for her need of privacy. The silkiness of her dress is nice, so she can’t help but run her fingers along the fabric. She likes it when she walks and it brushes against her bare legs. She likes it even more when she takes off her shoes and walks barefooted on the grass surface, although it’s slightly cold in the chilly weather. When the sun isn’t clouded the rays warm her up, and she finds herself turning her face towards them. Her dress is a dark, deep blue not unlike that of Sans’ suit the first time they met. It flows around her in elegant motions, making her feel very fancy and very pretty. Her hair is so uneven that it isn’t even funny. Some tafts go all the way down to underneath her breasts, but most are at shoulder-length. An annoying result of Adrian burning her hair for shits and giggles. Somewhere deep buried in her heart she’s glad that the psychopath is dead. While it brings her no joy, especially since it cost the life of Caleb’s father, Ivan, her guard told the story with pride. Grief-struck over his death, but knowing he can’t get back his father’s body, a stone heart is necessary to move on. At least in this business.

Her hair is wind-swept, her eyes distant in thought. This garden is far nicer and homelier than Vincent’s ever was. Walking on the soft grass in the sunny afternoon is just what she needs, without even knowing it. Her brain feels like it’s been slaving away for many years, so walking in the garden is like therapy. Cherry blossoms are fully grown and in bloom, planted in rows on either side of her, creating a pathway without it actually being one. If she walks to her right and keeps going, she’ll stumble upon the outer walls of the estate. She tried that before.

Birds are chirping, the trees moving in the wind. Those are the only sounds nearby, just like she wants it to be. This is a moment worthwhile, nothing in the world exists except this paradise. She’s already grown to love this garden without actually having seen all of it.

At the end of the cherry trees is something along the lines of a small glade with a pond. The water trickles, drawing her near. She’s far away from the mansion now, completely devoured by the beautiful nature. The silk makes soft sounds when she sits down on the ground, proceeding to lay down on a bed of yellow flowers.

_I could get used to this._

Trickling water, chirping birds, blowing wind, muffled steps-

_Hold up, muffled steps?_

Instead of opening her eyes and confronting the person spying on her, she pretends not to notice and opts for doing nothing. Her guess is that Tana followed her, but that can’t be. Frisk is good at listening to footsteps, especially her sister’s. She would’ve heard her before.

 _Is it Sans?_ She thinks, her heart skipping a beat at the thought. It might be, since she hasn’t seen him anywhere else. The skeleton seems like the brooding type, too.

A hollow sound comes from behind her to the left. Something hit a tree.

“Ow!” Yelps a woman.

That voice is new; foreign. Frisk has never heard it before. The possibility of an enemy finding her vulnerable is enough to send her scrambling to her feet, fighting stance ready. Only when she is standing does she remember that no enemy would be allowed inside Gaster walls. They probably have spells for that. This would indicate that the person in front of her is not dangerous. Towards her, at the very least.

The woman is young. Very tall, brown-haired and with cornflower blue eyes. Her figure is modest.

“U-uh… shit.” She stammers. When Frisk scrutinizes her, she finds multiple wounds with dried blood on her. Overall, the woman is dirty, but nothing like Frisk imagines she, herself, was when Emilia found her. _This is very weird_ , Frisk comments silently. _Why is she wandering around looking like this?_

“Are you okay?”

“I uhm… I actually can’t quite say.”

“Were you hurt in a fight or something?”

The woman furrows her brows in thought while pursing her lips slightly.

“No I- Uhm… I…”

 “I get it. You can’t talk about business with strangers, it’s against the family code.”

“Family code?” There’s a pause where the woman bites her lips. “Uh- yeah. Against the family code…”

“What’s your name?” Frisk asks.

“It’s Sofie.” Sofie looks relieved as she says it, the only firm answer Frisk has gotten out of the woman yet.

“Hi Sofie, name’s Frisk.”

The woman – who Frisk would think to be a gangster, had it not been for her consistent stammering and terrified looks – nervously reaches out a hand in greeting waiting for Frisk to take it. It could be a trick – her appearance – tempting Frisk to deem her as inferior, when in reality this woman could be stronger than herself.

_To hell with that. The Gasters wouldn’t let anyone who isn’t trustworthy into their estate._

When they shake hands, Sofie seems to calm down a bit. Frisk does that too, willingly. She gently pushes the poor woman back towards the estate, mindset on getting her freshened up. It’s an instinct from her capo days in the Marchetti mafia, where she would take care of all her men. The woman turns frightened at the thought, however Frisk won’t hear any of it. She doesn’t care if the gangster fears her own bosses, this poor woman needs a bath.

“Are you okay? You look… as if you’ve had one hell of a week.” Frisk admits.

“Actually… I don’t remember.” Frisk lets out a hearty laugh.

“Too much alcohol involved, trying to forget the job?”

“Maybe. I don’t know. Wow, you have _no idea_ how much I’ve been thinking that the last 3 hours. It’s irritating!”

“I can imagine,” Frisk sends her a long look, taking in her grimy clothes and disheveled hair, “it must’ve been one hell of a fight though.”

The trip through the gardens doesn’t take quite as long as she imagined. The upper levels of the mansion are towering over the treetops, being to Frisk what a lighthouse is to a ship. During their walk the two women make pleasantries. Frisk talks about her sister, that they’re staying temporarily, and about the upcoming war with Los Amparadores.

“But considering that Emmanuel’s oldest son is dead, he’s probably more enraged now than ever. I haven’t been involved much in gang rivalry here in New Ebott, but it seems as if this was just the calm before the storm. Can you tell me anything about this?”

“The gang wars? Not anything that you’re not already aware of.”

As it turns out, Sofie is actually a nice person. Very humorous and shy. Frisk can’t imagine her involved in gang activities, _but never judge a book by it’s cover_ , she reminds herself. Like Tana, there are roles in a mafia that don't need to be violent or scary. Tana is an investigator for the Marchettis on part-time, Sofie may play such a part in Wingdings Gasters’ game.

When they reach the outer walls of the mini-castle they have to walk around until they find a door inside. It almost takes as long as the walk through the park. Her silky dress is cold from the cutting wind, making her shiver. Sofie copies her action, barely dressed in some jeans and a formal shirt. They aren’t clothed for the harsh spring weather.

It is then that Frisk notices a faint blaring of an alarm from inside. “What does that mean?” She asks confusedly, not sure if she should be looking for a weapon or searching the estate for her sister. Her indecisive eyes look at Sofie for some kind of answer, but none is found. It appears as if she’s just as confused as Frisk.

“Uh-“

Thundering footsteps. Screaming orders. The crackling of magic. Frisk turns around wildly, ready to fight, ready to kick ass despite not being fully healed yet-

“Mr. Papyrus?” Her jaw drops for a second, as well as her eyes turning wide. After that she composes herself. “Is everything okay?”

The tall but slender skeleton is poised upon a set of stairs with a group of soldiers behind him. He’s gripping an enormous bone in his gloved right hand, armed and expecting a fight. The monsters behind him are looking cautiously to Frisk’s left side, where a scared and thoroughly confused Sofie is having a break-down.

_Alright this is getting really confusing. Why are they looking at her like she’s a bomb about to go off?_

“SURROUND HER!”

Frisk’s protection instinct settles in, causing her to stand between the woman and group of mobsters. This is no fair fight, especially since the monsters have both magic and weapons and Sofie neither of those things. This young, former capo knows exactly what it feels like to stand alone against dangerous gangsters. Determined to get to the bottom of this and protect the already-wounded woman, Frisk puts up her arms in a defensive gesture. She lifts an eyebrow questioningly at Papyrus, who hesitates. Some part of her expects him to kill her immediately, which would most likely have happened, had she not been a guest.

“CALL FOR MY BROTHER AND TELL HIM I FOUND THE SCIENTIST.”

_So she’s the Gasters’ scientist!_

A hideous monster with wobbling motions hurry off to find Sans. Frisk can’t tell if she should be worried or relieved that she’ll see Sans again. The last time she saw him was when she half-consciously let him teleport her back. When she reached the Void, she was out cold.

Papyrus and his men surround both women. The boots from the monsters thump against the flooring, and the crackling of magic isn’t subsiding.

“Listen closely,” Frisk whispers so only Sofie hears, “I’m willing to help you out of whatever trouble you’re in, but you need to tell me what is going on.”

“That’s the thing,” Sofie whispers back furiously, “I have no clue what’s going on at all.”

“How can you not know how you got into _this_ much trouble?” Papyrus isn’t taking his attention away from Sofie.

“You see… I think I might be suffering from severe memory loss.”

“Amnesia?!”

“Yeah, that’s the one. I woke up in this alleyway thingy, and some guys were after me. I had to run through that giant park near the Ebottian river, almost died doing so too.” Frisk turns her head towards Sofie again, her eyes intense with observation and focus.

“Are you trying to trick me, or are you speaking the truth?” Sofie bites her lip and returns Frisk’s scrutinizing gaze.

“I swear that I’m not lying. Some monster took me here,” she sighs in defeat. “This is so frustrating! How do I get you to believe me?”

_She seems genuine enough. Either she’s a better actress than I am, or she really has amnesia._

She places a hand on the mysterious woman’s shoulder and nods encouragingly. Frisk doesn’t necessarily trust her, but neither does she believe that this woman should be killed or tortured before getting a chance to explain why she’s here.

“I believe you.”

“Thank you.”

The room is filled with whispers in-between Papyrus’ men, nervous tapping, and the screeching of the alarm. Just when Frisk is getting used to hearing it, the screeching stops. Her body would tense up, but she keeps her composure in a tight grip. No matter what the Gasters think Sofie did, Frisk won’t let them do anything to her before the matter has been presented to the confused woman. Frisk’s dainty hand is still resting on her shoulder, so Sofie lays her own hand over it. The wait for Sans to appear out of thin air is not long. Once the blue and yellow sparks start dancing around before her, Frisk automatically straightens. When she forces her face to look fierce and stubborn, the intimidating skeleton appears just a few steps from her. He lifts a browbone, probably confused as to why Frisk is involved in this. To be fair, Frisk wonders why too. That doesn't stop her from doing so, though.

“I’m not going to let you-“ She starts, almost immediately interrupted by him. 

“buttacup why are ya up? ya supposed ta be healin’ in yer room.” His words sound astounded, yet commanding, as if he couldn't possible imagine anybody going against his orders

_Okay, that was not what I expected him to say._

“Healing? I’m perfectly fine. But do you know what isn’t _fine_?” She hisses. Sans looks confused, not quite getting what’s going on. Is he supposed to answer? Is he supposed to force her back to her room where she can heal? Should he just… let her rant? In front of their men and his brother? Or should he make sure that no one questions his authority again? This woman is truly a wildcard, unlike any human he’s ever seen before. “It’s not _fine_ that you treat a wounded person like some kind of animal! She is suffering from amnesia, so it’s not fair for her to be treated like a criminal!”

_Okay, maybe criminal isn’t the best word to use in a mansion full of… well, criminals._

The room is quiet. The only hearable thing is the breathing of the two humans, and the skeletal hand tapping his chin. His eyes lose their light, warning Frisk that she isn’t going to like what’s coming next. She takes a step closer to Sofie, headstrong in her opinion that they should give her a chance. Although her own wounds are near fine, her body is exhausted, constantly yelling at her to go back to her room for rest. Her legs are starting to ache from the long walk through the park.

Something changes in Sans during that moment. The two pinpoints in the eye sockets return. When he walks towards the two humans the vibration from his heavy body can be felt through their feet. Standing face to face with the monster, Frisk tries not to back down.

_“First rule of survival here is not to show them any weakness, kitty.”_

_“Aren’t you going to protect me? Isn’t that what parents do?”_

_“I can’t protect you. You have to show them you deserve to be in this family. Maybe one day you'll even be a caporegime."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CDD. Chronic Dabbing Disease. 1 kudo = 1 prayer to stop Sofie from dabbing. Please stop.


	15. Unspoken Things and Those That Should Have Been

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If there's actually somebody who waited for this chapter, I am so sorry for keeping you waiting this long. So many exams, so much to read up on...  
> Either way, enjoy this chapter where we finally learn more about Sans' and Frisk's relationship.

She stares into his eye sockets with a stern look. There’s nothing to do now except hope for Sans to listen. Sofie is shaking underneath Frisk’s hand, enough so that it almost rattles her bones.

 _Still got the jokes,_ she silently concludes. But oh boy, this is not the time for jokes, she quickly realizes. Sans has no emotion written on his face, no hint as to what he’s feeling whatsoever. She’s in stranger tides, in the sense that she’s got no idea how to read his body language. He has shown himself to be kind before, for example when he helped her escape from The Golden Bull, and once more at the old factory. There’s definitely something unspoken between them, but that’s just the thing; they haven’t talked about what they _are_. Is she his lady friend? Some clearance would be quite helpful.

She stays quiet for awhile. No words will help her situation, she verifies with a bitter mindset. This is a game of power, and being on his turf makes her extremely vulnerable. Standing up to him like this, a guest in his own home, may be her downfall. His eyes stare her down for what feels like forever, two sparkling diamonds pinning her down with a gaze. Who knew that something so beautiful could belong to someone so dangerous?

A growl resonates from within him, making Sofie whimper in terror once again. The desire to tell him off is almost too strong to fight, but Frisk has been raised harshly with painful consequences. She knows better than to provoke him further when he’s in this state, although she may need to do so anyway.

That’s why, when he teleports both her and Sofie away, she doesn’t utter a word. Her legs don’t kick out after him, or her hands scratch at his expensive suit. But when they land in the Void for a decisecond, Frisk feels a familiar presence. The man from her nightmare, who threatened to kill her and her sister.

The one with horrific red eyes.

When they land in a living room she almost gasps in shock, but she stops herself at the last second. Not precisely stoked about the idea of making Sans think he got the best of her, the ice-cold expression on her face doesn’t falter. It isn’t him who is responsible for her sudden chill, so under no circumstance will he get the honor of it. Actually, she’s pissed at him for treating poor Sofie like this. _Can’t he see that she’s suffering?_

The creepy man from the Void is long from forgotten for now, but she’s too busy juggling her emotions for Sans and her sense of protection for Sofie to brood over what is going on. She chalks it up to hallucination and leaves it at that.

Her exhausted body longs for the extravagant couch a couple steps away, but her stubbornness won’t let her sit down. She’s filled with determination to remain cool and collected, otherwise he might not take her seriously when she inevitably argues with him.

“L-Look, I don’t mean any harm! And I’m sorry for trying to escape you.” Sofie exclaims before he can do anything to her. “I barely know who I am, how would I know if I was planning a vendetta against you?”

“shut up.”

“Okay.” She says quietly, wringing her hands nervously. She sends Frisk a pleading look as if to beg for help. She’s right to do so, there’s probably no one else in this entire mansion who is willing to help her. Sans isn’t interested in her at the least, his attention is solely on the brown-eyed woman only inches away from him. The leather of his glove creaks when he grabs her chin with his thumb and forefinger.

“jus’ what do ya think yer’re doin’ sweetheart?” He inquires in a grave voice. Frisk does nothing to show her bewildered state.

“I’m protecting a defenseless woman from becoming one of your torture puppets.”

He lifts an eyebrow in confusion before removing his hand.

“forget da damn woman. i’m talkin’ ‘bout why ya aren’t in bed… gettin’ better. adrian did a number on ya back there, an’ i don’t want ya ta risk severe consequences by not lettin’ yer body rest. mrs. toriel is great at healin’, but that won’t matter if yer’re wanderin’ around exhausting yasself!” He scolds, while sending her a didactic stare. She realizes quickly that there’s no chance of him hurting her in a fit of anger. It’s almost as if he’s pointedly ignoring Sofie until Frisk is taken care of. The thought ignites an odd feeling in her. Flattered by his worry, albeit a tad tired of everyone treating her like porcelain, she sighs. A spark of annoyance joins the rest of her emotions.

“I’m okay Sans, really. I just had to get some fresh air, and I accidentally stumbled upon Sofie in the gardens. I won’t go back to my room before I’m absolutely certain that you will treat her respectfully. For crying out _loud_! How dangerous can she be? I mean, just look at her! She wouldn’t be able to hurt a fly, yet alone a house filled to the brim with armed gangsters!” Remarks Frisk with dripping irritation. The skeleton has a faraway gaze, as if he’s thinking about something else entirely. His eye sockets travel up and down her skinny and maltreated body, but if it’s in lust or worry Frisk can’t tell. Granted, she doesn’t care, given that she’s thoroughly upset with him this moment. How could he judge a woman so innocent-looking to be as dangerous as him? Didn’t Papyrus just say she is a scientist? There’s no doubt that Frisk is going to fight for this petite woman, but for the time being maybe she has to coax Sans into giving her a chance.

Said mobster has gained a more resolute expression, looking at her like he’s already decided what her whole life is going to be like. An expression seen before on many men who tried – and failed – to keep Frisk in line.

“alright. if ya go back ta bed i won’t torture her fer information, until ya feel better. howsabout that?”

“Give her a nice room.”

“no.”

“Yes!”

“no.”

“I can’t believe you’re being this stubborn. Just give her a good room and I’ll-“ She starts, ready to play porcelain doll if it means getting this poor woman some peace and quiet. Frisk doesn’t even consider the fact that the embers from his anger could still be burning. For a woman who claims to be cautious, to everyone including herself, she’s starting to trust and be comfortable around him. His presence is soothing, making her feel like nothing would ever be able to hurt her. Not even the red-eyed man from her nightmare is any concern of hers in this point in time. That’s why, when Sans once more loses his eyelights, her body trembles in shock and takes a step back at his horror-inducing tone.

“I   S A I D   N O.”

The couch creaks when Sofie backs into it by accident. She hurriedly scrambles behind it instead, cowering in fear. Her heaving breath is impeccably loud in the room, having no other noise in it whatsoever except Sans’ crackling knuckles.

 _You know what Vincent did to you when you talked back to him. What’s to stop Sans, who is a fucking underboss by the way, from doing the exact same to you as dear old Vince?_ Love _? Affection? You’ve been blinded by his charming side and look where it’s brought you. You know better than to trust seemingly-good mobsters, they bring nothing but problems. Well congrats Frisky, it finally came back to bite you in the ass. Are you happy now? Are you satisfied? What happened to listening to the voice in the back of your head anyway, did that option just go out of the window like every other sensible thing? I bet it did, right when his skeletal self came to your aid back at the bar._

Her mouth is open in shock, her eyes wide trying to take in the person she before thought would never do anything harmful against her, but now she isn’t so sure. The back of the couch is touching her lower back, leaving the woman nowhere to go. But where would she even go if she could get out of this room? She’s too tired to make an escape attempt, not to mention that she hasn’t seen Tana, Emilia or Caleb since this morning. Well – technically afternoon.

_After you inwardly vowed to help Sans with everything he would ever need, he ends up being just like Vincent. Maybe even worse. You got caught up in the hopes of leaving your good-for-nothing family behind to join a better one. The only good thing about this is that you know how to deal with pissed off gangsters._

“Of course, Mr. Gaster.” She says politely with a poker face. “Thank you for doing me the kindness of waiting with Sofie’s interrogation, it means a lot to me.”

Her face is heated with all the pent-up anger she never got to show her foster family. How dare he threaten her? How _dare he_ play with her emotions like that? And just how could he ever get himself to throw away the small amount of trust developing between them? The black-sockets trick doesn't truly invoke terror in her, so she gains more confidence in speaking up to him.

Sans has gained his more normal look again, but it’s quickly adorned with anger.

“mista gaster? are yer outta yer damn mind!”

It’s more of a bellow than an exclamation.

“do not _ever_ call me mr. gaster again or i swear ta whatever deity ya believe in that ya won’t like da result!”

“Then what _do you_ want me to call you then?!” Frisk explodes, her voice raised as well with caution thrown out of the window. Her hands clench enough to draw blood.

_Let him be furious. I’m tired of walking on eggshells around mafiosos’ pomposity, and if he really is into me, then he won’t hurt me._

“everything ‘cept that! sans, babe, honey; we kissed fer cryin’ out loud, stop pretendin’ ya don’t remember!”

“We _kissed_ because you tried to seduce me into telling you what you wanted!”

“didn’ seem like ya hated it!”

“Why would I ever enjoy kissing somebody who takes personal pleasure in hurting others?!” The lady snaps hotly, finger pointing accusingly at the monster in front of her.

“i have _never_ hurt ya, and i won’t ever! do ya know how terrible i felt when i couldn’ find ya? or how angry i got at my pops when he said not ta make ya a priority over my ‘family’? no! ‘cause ya don’t see over yer own damn nose, do ya?!”

“See over my own nos- What?! I came to New Ebott to save my sister, is that so selfish to you? How about when I saved that geeky lizard-lady from getting kidnapped! Was that for my own personal gain as well? You’re too fucking much, Sans Gaster! You claim to care about me, yet you didn’t even come by when I woke up! What are we anyway? Fuck-buddies? Acquaintances? Or maybe I’m just a toy you _own_!”

“i had ta visit a contact from work, since _somebody_ went ahead an’ forced me ta give da order fer killin’ dom! da war between monstas an’ humans are around da corner, but ya’re concerned ‘bout a small visit?”

“Alright fine! The job came first, is that it? Look, I know how it is, I’m a capo for crying out loud! You have people to protect, gang wars to prevent and a reputation to maintain. But if you can’t put aside some time for me, then we should stop whatever this is right now, because fighting for a sliver of your time isn’t something I’m going to win.”

“sweetheart, don’t do that. ‘m not goin’ ta fall fer it!”

“Do what?!”

His face turns guilty.

“cryin’ so that i’ll give ya what ya want!”

“What do you mean crying, I’m not-“

She lifts a hand to her cheek which comes back wet. She dries her face on the back of her hand feverishly, but it does little to nothing except spreading blood on her red cheeks.

_Are these angry tears or sad tears?_

Only now does she realize how hysterical she became. Her throat is raw from screaming, her palms bloodied from her sharp nails. _I must look completely insane_ , she miserably sniffles.

“What are we, Sans?” She croaks, having to say it twice before he understands. A good composure right now seems awfully ambitious and Frisk couldn’t care less about hiding her feelings. Despite what she might think, some part of her knows Sans isn’t like Vincent. All she can do is hope that he doesn’t turn out to be worse. The thought makes her terribly hopeless.

To her small satisfaction he looks a bit miserable too.

 

* * *

 

“No, you don’t get it-“

“ _First both you and your sister go missing for a week, then I find out from Abbatino that she’s been kidnapped, and now you want me to let you stay in that hostile city?_ ”

“Yeah, but if they’re really experimenting with magic, then we have to help the monsters-“

“ _I don’t want to hear another word of this. Give the phone to Frisk, I need to speak with her._ ”

“Daddy, Frisky is…” Tana glances around the messy kitchen, searching for a palpable excuse but not really finding any. “… sleeping.”

“ _You’re an awful liar. Give her the phone,_ now _!”_

“She isn’t here! Well, in the kitchen at least. She went out for a walk.”

“ _With Caleb?_ ”

“Uh… yeah. Caleb went with her…” She says with a squeaky voice.

“ _You let your sister walk alone in the Gaster estate?! That’s it, I’m taking the jet to come get you._ ”

“DAD NO!” She screams frantically, thoroughly scared of reuniting with her father. She pulls herself together and focuses everything she’s got into one, simple lie. “You can’t speak with her because she’s with Emilia discussing how to get back. Really dad, we have everything under control. You know how Frisky is, always the professional one.”

“ _She’s with Abbatino?_ ”

“Yup.”

“ _And they’re booking means of getting back home?_ ”

“Absolutely.”

“ _Good. I want you back in two days._ ”

“Two-“ She sputters in disbelief, “two days?! Daddy please, she isn’t even fully healed yet! Can’t we have some more time?”

“ _Three days._ ”

“This is your daughter we’re talking about, can’t you cut her some slack? If Mrs. Dreemurr hadn’t healed her, she wouldn’t even be awake right now.”

“ _Mrs. Dreemurr?! That is_ it _young lady! Do you have any idea of how dangerous these families are? If you screw anything up, what’s to stop them from taking you hostage and using you against us? You’re endangering every single one in the Marchetti family by being there!_ ”

The line beeps.

“Okay daddy I promise to be careful, alright? But I have to go now.”

“ _I’m not done with you!_ ”

“Can I call you back in 10? I think Caleb is on the line.”

The man sighs in defeat, and Tana hears the tapping of fingers on a desk.

“ _Fine. But be sure to tell your sister to call me when she and Emilia comes back._ ”

“Okay. Bye dad, see you in a week!”

“ _In a week?!_ ”

She hangs up in exchange for speaking with the new caller.

“This is Tana speaking.”

The line crackles for some seconds before turning back to normal.

“ _Tana, it’s Caleb. Remember how you told me to go check up on this Baklavas guy?_ ”

“Yeah, what about it?”

“ _Are you sure the address you gave me is correct? This store is thrashed and there’s no sign of your informant._ ”

“What? Are you absolutely positive?”

“ _I’m telling you, if he was here he’s gone now. This place is a wreck. Maybe Emmanuel got to him before I did, and if that’s the case then he’s gone permanently._ ”

“N-no that can’t be…” Her sight blurs with unshed tears while she fights back a panic attack. Not Mr. Baklavas, the kind caterpillar who wouldn’t even dream of hurting anybody. When Tana first arranged a meeting with him at Grillby’s he was so nice and heart-warming. He promised to stay safe…

“ _Listen, do you want me to keep on looking here?_ ”

“U-uhm…” She dries her eyes with slow motions, trying to comprehend the severity of the situation.

_Baklavas is as good as dead now, they must’ve figured out he tattled on them. If they find out that I also know about the magic experiments…_

“Caleb you need to come b-back right now. I think I’m in danger.”

 

* * *

 

The heavy steps of Emmanuel Alonso come closer and closer to the door. His red and black suit is more expensive than this small property, to say nothing of his watch, his shoes and his fancy rings. On his head is dark, prickly hair with a touch of grey. His face itself was once handsome and charming, however indulging in fights and crimes his entire life has given him several scars, cuts and a crooked nose. Decorating his face is a smug smile, which allows everyone to get a nice look at his double golden teeth. The two teeth beside the upper front were knocked out during a street fight in his younger days, back when he used to live in Spain. All in all the Don gives off a scaring vibe, and if his reputation didn’t proceed him then his looks would definitely scare off any rivals, despite the fact that age has given him a slight abdominal obesity. His voice, deep and smooth, is frequently used at sweet-talking his employees and anyone who might have something he wants. Having been in the game for at least 32 of his total 48 years, the man exceeds almost everyone in his field. The only competition he has are the Dreemurrs and the Gasters, and this doesn’t escape his sharp mind. He always has an eye on the other side of the river looking out for alarming monster activity, and he makes it his special duty to keep his rivals in check. Among all of the experiments, finding new recruits and selling drugs and booze it can be difficult to make time for district 2 and 3. Or as they’ve more recently been referred to as; Snowdin and Hotland. The nicknames make Emmanuel want to kill something, since he rather prefers keeping names from the Underground where they belong. Buried underneath Mount Ebott, that is.

When he descends to the basement of a safehouse near the Border, the cries of a monster can be heard.

“Stop! Please stop, I’ll tell you! I’ll tell you!”

Grey dust flows around the boxed room, covering the floor in a layer of iron color. The stench of dead rats, mold and old house makes the space seem disgusting. The caterpillar is strapped to a stripper pole, although not for the reasons initially thought. Instead of dripping blood the creature is flaking dust, which is the source behind the dirty floor.

“Step aside.” Don Alonso orders, causing all 3 men to back away from their torturing. “I need to have a talk with him. Leave me the knife on your way out, gentlemen.”

They nod in unison before the higher-up among them hands over the pointy blade. When the door closes behind them Emmanuel is already fully focused on his subject.

_I am going to enjoy this._

“Did you finally come to your senses, little one?” He coaxes.

“Y-yes! I’ll tell you who else knows!”

A smile breaks out on the man’s face once again, gold shining in the caterpillar’s eyes.

“Good. Go on, then.”

“Promise me you-you will let me go!”

“I will consider it.”

“I had a-a meeting with this P.I from Greenmay City.”

“Interesting.”

“Her name was Tana Marchetti, an-and her sister came a week after.”

“You told Vincent Marchetti's nieces about what you saw? Alright, and what else?”

“I-I swear, nothing else!”

The monster whimpers in fear when the human drags the blade closer and closer to its eyes.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk. Now why do I have trouble believing that, little one?”

“O-okay! Stop! I-I told Tana something else too!”

The blade comes to a stop.

“What did you say?”

“I… I told her about your magic experiments.”

There’s no warning whatsoever when Don Alonso cuts out first the right eye, and then the left. Taking by horrible surprise, the caterpillar can’t help but scream in agony. Screams of pleading, screams of apology.

When the only trace left of the poor monster is the grey pile lying on the floor, Emmanuel turns on his heel and walks upstairs again. He dusts himself off before calling his son.


	16. Family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone cares, I'm sorry for waiting this long.   
> CHAPTER 1+2 UPDATED WITH NEW INFORMATION.

Caleb is making haste towards the giant mansion lying somewhat secluded on a hill not far away from the border of Snowdin. Only two other estates are situated on that exact same hill, but although it makes for a small neighborhood the inhabitants are barely acquainted. The personal guard encourages the driver to go faster, but the monster seems indifferent. Granted, Caleb doesn’t quite understand how his driver can see out of the dark hood. As the only visible part of the driver is his, (or hers?), purple-blueish cloak, the young man can’t help but wonder what type of monster he’s dealing with, and – less important – what gender They are. During his years in the Marchetti family there’s the occasional meet with one of the weird creatures, but never has he seen so many in one place as here in New Ebott.

Even though his mind is racing with different topics, the name of the caterpillar just keeps coming up. Obviously, something’s going on with the younger sister and her informant, but she isn’t exactly jumping on the opportunity to tell him. He despises being left in the dark, but his position doesn’t grant him much information other than what he needs to know to protect Frisk. Technically, Tana’s safety isn’t his priority, however as she’s the Don’s niece, there’s a silent agreement that everybody – no matter their rank or position – keeps an eye out for the two. Letting the girls become hurt is reason enough to get killed. Caleb chills at the thought of getting shot in the head, only because he forgot to pay attention to Tana. He won’t ever make that mistake, unless it compromises Frisk’s safety, but the man severely doubts that such a situation will ever occur.

“Tralala,” They hum quietly and without any explanation, “take note of the mage who sees in red.”

Caleb eyes the _driver_ person in confusion.

“What mage? I haven’t met any mages.”

“Tralala,” is his only answer. _Monsters_ , he complains, pointedly ignoring the figure beside him while he anxiously thinks about Tana.

 

* * *

 

 

When River parks the car, Caleb all but jumps out in hurry. His legs carry him fast towards the garage door, meanwhile he frantically texts Tana for her location inside this giant place.

**_Caleb, 4:38 pm:_ ** _Where are you?_

**_Tana, 4:38 pm:_ ** _Looking for Frisk, lets meet @ my room_

He doesn’t bother answering, instead he runs through the mansion’s labyrinth of corridors, only stopping once to ask a cleaning lady for directions. Remembering his manners, he knocks before entering Tana’s room, but he gives her no time to answer or otherwise react before bursting in. The generously-sized bedroom is decorated with ornate pieces and artwork, including the occasional plant or two. The bed itself has a canopy of fine silk, and white, smooth bedsheets with a circular pattern. His steps were muted by the thick carpeting that covers the entirety of the room.

“Are you okay?!” He exclaims, surveying her for any indication of injury. Much to his satisfaction, he finds none.

“Yeah, I’m fine, but I don’t know for how long! I’m totally out of it!” Prolonging the o in the word ‘totally’ she grabs her head in hysteria, eyes red from crying. “These people aren’t just dumb gangsters pretending to be tough, they’re from a mafia and we just pissed off their Godfather! _I_ pissed off their Godfather! Plus, I kicked so much ass back at the factory, what if somebody escaped and told them of my ass-kicking? Caleb, imagine what a guy like God-freaking-father Alonso is going to do to me if he finds out that _I know_! I know _everything_! He’ll be furious, and I’m not just talking Thomas furious, I’m talking Angela furious, and I don’t know if I should be endangering our family by staying here, but technically the Gasters give the best protection against the gangsters from the Ruins, and I want to help them defeat Los Ampara-whatever, and honestly I’m just _so scared_ , but dad wouldn’t listen to me and now I have to deal with this on my own, but I don’t think I can, but I really, _really_ want to shoot whoever killed Mr. Baklavas, and–”

“Okay! Calm down before your head explodes, Tana. I know mine’s about to, anyway.”

“Too late. I’m freaking out.” She falls down on the bed, head buried in her fluffy pillow. “I’m so dead. Dead, dead, dead. Oh God, dad is going to kill me if I die!”

If there’s one thing Caleb is good at, it’s definitely not comforting a person experiencing a panic-attack. Should he pat her head? Give her a positive smile? Vow to protect her against the insane Don and his followers? If he’s honest with himself he’s not sure if even Vincent would be able to protect someone who got in the middle of Emmanuel’s business.

_Okay, so this is pretty bad. What of it?_

“Look, we can fix this. How much ‘ass-kicking’ did you do back at the factory?”

She looks up briefly from her soft pillow.

“I landed on a guard and intimidated them while Sans and Papyrus took turns beating them up.”

“That’s…”

“Look, they know that I’m me! I waltzed into a bar on their side of the river looking for Frisk and Dominic Alonso found me. What if he told his father – or someone else – before he died? What if somebody _resurrects_ him? Oh God–“

“Nobody is gonna resurrect Dominic, even if it was possible. The Gasters took care of the body.”

“They did?”

“Of course they did, they think of everything. I’ll bet that they even burned the entire factory to the ground to dispose of any evidence.”

“I heard about that… That there was a fire, that is. It was in the news this morning.”

“See? Even if he _did_ tell his father or his sister, I very much doubt that it matters to the Don. He’s busy declaring war against the monsters, it’s not like he’s going to rage war against one, small human!“

 

* * *

 

 

Deciding to rage war against that too-curios-for-her-own-good detective, Emmanuel is currently speaking on the phone. Despite multiple recommendations from his vindictive offspring, merely hours before, none of the ideas are as gruesome as he would like them to be. Who knows how many people that blabbermouth has told about his magic experiments already, it’s best to be on the safe side and take out both sisters. Or maybe bloodshed is unnecessary, as he thoroughly doubts that Tana would ever tell Don Gaster or any of his associates about his experiments. Even though she’s irritating, she’s got the smarts, and it wouldn’t be wise to trust strangers in this city. He can only come up with one other person whom she might’ve told this to.

Perfect; he’s got an idea. As he dials a frequent number on his phone his brows knit in thought.

“ _Sí, estás diciendo con Mariana._ ”

“ _Mija_ , I actually have a job for you.”

“ _Me? Papá are you sure…?_ ”

“Absolutely. You are perfect for this, you with your intelligent ways and clever moves. I need you to get close to a woman called Tana Marchetti, and if possible her sister Frisk as well.”

“ _Are you talking about that detective from Greenmay? Es fácil, consider it done already._ ”

“Good, because this is your one and only chance at proving yourself. I will make sure that you get sent the details.”

When their short conversation is done, Emmanuel continues into his expensive car. A woman holds the door for him while doing so but earns nothing in response. With the way he moves and his irritated face it wouldn’t seem as if this man just lost a son. But nonetheless the death of Adrian is a scar on his cold heart, and the blame is solely on his enemies; if it hadn’t been for that Frisk, and Adrian’s girlfriend, his second son would still be among the living – breathing, smiling and supporting his father like always. His heart throbs dangerously hard in shared anger and grief, threatening to beat right out of his chest. It gives him a creative idea for how he’s going to punish the two ladies for killing his second-born. Staging their death to look like they were committed by a monster wouldn’t be all that hard, he realizes, giving him a possible solution to all of his problems.

“The new laboratory,” he says dismissively to the driver. The car starts its way towards its destination. Before the Don can plan any revenge, he must attend to important business matters. Since those monster freaks blew up his beloved lab, and most of his progress, the man can’t claim to be pleased. Truth is, if it hadn’t been because they had a backup lab, Emmanuel would’ve tortured every survivor. Despite this, his mood is unbelievable foul, primarily because Dr. Jürgensen hasn’t called to update him on the casualties of the explosion yet, resultingly making Emmanuel force someone he trusts way less to report about the extent of losses and destruction. _Coming to think of it, perhaps she’s just laying low in a hospital, licking her wounds like a coward_ , he muses, pointedly aware of the nagging feeling in the back of his mind telling him that something is majorly wrong. Many bodies were reported, and he would _hate_ for his best scientist in the field of magic to have died. Not only would it be impractical to find a new one, it would take him precious time which he’d rather use on research. Damn it, he had been _so close_ to succeeding, and then they had to go and ruin his huge progress.

As the car rolls into the parking lot two people walk towards the moving car. Emmanuel recognizes one of them to be Dr. Jürgensen’s assistant, while the other merely seems to be a nobody. He partly expects this nobody to open his door and kiss the ground he treads, but the man does neither. When Don Alonso’s door opens, it’s by his loyal and talented driver, who doesn’t hesitate to act as a servant if the need should arise. Emmanuel doesn’t even say thank you or address the elder man, his eyes fall upon the assistant whom looks like she’s about to cry in pure panic. The pressure and responsibility she’s had to take on with Dr. Jürgensen gone must be affecting the petite woman quite a lot. Her blonde bun has become messy, her white lab coat is slightly askew, and her emerald eyes are wide in desperation. Some would treat this woman with care and keep a polite tone, but Emmanuel doesn’t have time for pleasantries and immaculate wording. Actually, he’s furious that something like this could happen, and that _Jürgensen_ isn’t there to fix it for him like she always does. It’s terribly hard to find trustworthy and hard-working employees nowadays, and Sofie is his favorite one of all. Her knowledge as a scientist is outstanding, despite her fear of working for a Godfather, and she’s never questioned orders or behaved improperly before now.

“Where is _Dr. Jürgensen!_ ” He snaps at the assistant, longing for at least one thing to go right in this mess. The woman all but hides behind the nobody, clearly mustering up all of her bravery to answer.

“U-uhm… Mr. Alonso, can we continue this talk inside? I would prefer it if I could show some footage from the lab, that was recovered…” She wrings her hands and is too afraid to look him in his stark eyes. Instead she gazes pleadingly at the person next to her, a man with a brown bob and strange eyes.

“That’s right. Mr. Alonso, my name is Chara Dreemurr, and before you judge me by my last name, I’d advise you to listen to what I have to say.” Unlike the assistant, Chara isn’t afraid to look the Don dead in the eyes, making the big guy give him somewhat credit for being courageous. With his stance screaming of pure power and stern expression, this is one of the tougher people Emmanuel’s had to deal with. This makes him partly satisfied, although he’s heard much about the infamous Dreemurr human who wanders among monsters as one of their own. It sickens him down to his very core. This is why he’d have spat at the ground before the bastard, had it not been because of his need to appear professional.

“I do not have _time_ to listen to the message your father sent you to bear. You are an absolute waste of my time, although I do admire your bravery. Or is it just pure stupidity, coming into my territory without any backup but a cute message?”

“Sir, I can assure you that Don Asgore is as much my father as Don Gaster is your lover. I’m here because I have some information that you might want to get your hands on, and because you need somebody inside the Dreemurr family after the position you’ve been put in. Think about this logically before you send someone to shoot me in the head.”

“Shoot you in the head? _Dios mio_ , no. That would be much too fast a death for you, and I’d rather use you as a bargaining chip, if not a learning dummy for my torturers in training.”

“You’re famous for your intellect, sir, so now please use it. Why would Asgore send me here, knowing that I would without a doubt get caught? Why not send someone less important? That’s because he didn’t. Nobody knows where I am yet, but that doesn’t matter to them right now. They’re busy with planning your murder after that stunt you pulled with kidnapping random monsters. I know about your plan to bring back magic in humans, and that your leading scientist is now missing, which brings me to my offer.” The man pauses for a moment to let the words sink in, and also to make sure that Emmanuel is listening. The Don nods once in allowance to continue. “I can help you with your magic research, show you which monsters to kidnap while staying under the radar, and even get you information from the inside. My only demand is that you allow me to use the magic on myself when the final product is finished.”

The Don thinks this over with absolutely nothing written on his face. It’s true that he needs someone to replace Jürgensen until she’s found or comes back, and it _would_ be useful to have a mole inside the Dreemurr family. However, Alonso doesn’t like that Chara knows about his scientific work, and worries how he might have gotten ahold of this knowledge. On the other side, if it was possible for him to gather this much, then it would mean that he would have no trouble at all getting the needed information from his rivals. But then what about loyalty? How can he expect the Don to trust someone who is betraying their own family?

_La familia is everything._

“Why do this? Why betray the family you grew up with?” He needs to know. When it all comes down to it, there’s only one thing that matters to Emmanuel right now; loyalty.

Despite having a minor audience, Chara doesn’t seem to care about them. He maintains eye contact with Emmanuel during his cold answer.

“Because I want them to suffer and see them destroyed. I want them _all_ destroyed. Is that too much to ask for?”

His golden teeth shimmer in the sunlight as he smiles wickedly. Destroying people and taking away everything they hold dear is his specialty.

“I would say not, Chara Dreemurr. I certainly would.”

“Good. Then let’s move inside, the doctor wasn’t kidding about the footage. I brought it here for you.”

“You are one peculiar man, Red-Eyes. I certainly would love to hear about how you got your nifty fingers on that footage, but that will be later. For now I wish to examine the cause of my dear doctor’s panic.”

 

* * *

 

 

_“Hello again video diary, it’s been almost two whole days since we last talked,” Sofie joked with a weird voice, her smile almost fake as the woman in the background’s designer boots. Her blue eyes were bloodshot and had bags under them, making her seem every bit as tired as she felt. “This is experiment 07, formula 26, magic-level raised to over 50% concentration and 15% liquid Buronamium, done on test-subject Alpha XX4. After experiment 06, I’ve lowered the magic concentration quite a bit, since I’ve found that too much unprotected magic is harmful to humans.”_

_The video camera showed almost the entirety of the lab at the old factory, with a female human strapped to a cleared working table. Sharp, yellow lights illuminated the spot, showing the clear fear on her face. Her curly hair was bloodied and messy, her skimpy skirt and crop top dirtied. The fishnets on her legs were torn in multiple places, giving her the appearance of a whore who’d been treated badly by her customer. Her wriggling and consistent muffled yells didn’t help her at all, but that didn’t discourage her from trying to escape the tight bonds holding her in place._

_“I’ll be using the RNA from a magic cell,” the doctor holds up a test tube with a sparkly green liquid, “and I’ll combine it with Alpha XX4’s egg ,” she holds up a tiny plate of glass with an egg cell in it, “and then I’ll put it back inside test subject Alpha XZ4’s womb for growing. This process can take long, but with the modern technology inside the field of pregnancy it should only take about 9 weeks instead of 9 months. For that I’ll be using the pregnancy serum, ‘Nyridigon’, on the egg cell to speed up the experiment. This should not have an effect on the baby’s magic, but for comparison I’m working on test-subject Alpha XZ5 who has shown good potential to go through all 9 months without complications. Because this will take more time and the risk of failure is greater, I’ve prepared for test-subject Alpha XZ6 and -7 to go through the same, just in case anything happens to XZ5.”_

_The doctor walked over to a table, holding the egg cell and the magic cells, where she prepared the egg for insertion._

_“As a measure of making sure that the magic won’t disappear over time, I’m reinforcing all cells with an extra membrane of Buronamium, with a percentage of 15% of the metal, as said previously. With some extra technology and adjustments, test-subject Alpha XX4 may be able to survive without dying of metal poisoning.”_

_When the egg was ready Sofie briefly addressed the camera. “I won’t film this part of the process due to subject XZ4’s instability, and I fear that it might worsen it if I point my camera at her personal regions.”_

_The tape cut to after Dr. Jürgensen finished inserting the egg, where she stood with a vial of more green liquid._

_“I’ll need three eggs from XZ5 through 7, but that’ll have to be tomorrow. Given that captive 02 has been most generous with producing magic due to his wish of escaping, I have plenty of magic to work with.” She inclined her head to a cage where a monster was fighting to gather enough energy to escape. After giving so much magic to the experiment it was on the verge of dying, the forest nymph gone from its bright green to a dull mossy color. Serivife, as the monster was called, had almost no more strength left in him, causing the monster to slowly fade away._

_Suddenly an alarm went off, leaving the lab in a disarray of red tones. Sofie looked around in a frenzy, partly expecting a group of monsters to come charging at her, but nonetheless tried to keep her head cool with nothing but pure self-control. For a moment she forgot the camera, since her mind was on the topic of how to proceed with the experiment. The red alarm meant that something was sincerely wrong and that everyone with weapons should find the threat while those such as Sofie evacuated all important pieces. Considering that this hadn’t happened to the confused individual before, it was understandable when she spaced out for a half dozen seconds trying to comprehend what was happening._

_“Uhm, it seems that there’s some tiny complications –  I’ll trust Dominic handles the situation, but I’ll need to evacuate the lab now!” She screamed over the noise. Her fingers fumbled a bit with the keyboard and mouse, as she ended the recording of experiment 07 and downloaded it on a portable USB drive – which contained all of her video diaries – but they were firm when she smashed the computer with an emergency fire axe. No matter what happened, she wasn’t about to let her boss’s enemies get ahold of her valuable research, so she pocketed the drive for safe keeping. The screaming and running outside were getting louder, however it didn’t help that a clock was mentally ticking furiously in Sofie’s mind._

_In her bewildered state she hurried over to test-subject XZ4, holding a syringe filled with sedatives. As the doctor injected the drug, a sharp motion from the stripper made her drop it by accident, and she watched as the syringe scattered across the floor, underneath a table with no way of getting it out in a hurry. The clever woman knew that it was only a matter of time before someone broke down the lab door, and therefore didn’t bother getting it out._

_“If you don’t cooperate, we’ll both get killed! Follow me, I know somewhere safe!” She started untying the woman’s restraints, confident in the fact that the small amount of sedatives already injected would make her sleepy enough to forget about an escape attempt. Sofie turned her back on the test-subject for a moment to make sure the smashed computer really wasn’t working, and didn’t see the former stripper hiding a vial in her bra._

_Why the scientist chose to save subject XZ4’s life instead of killing her was not something she thought about in that moment, her brain was too focused on what escape route would be quickest and safest in this mess. The action came to her naturally, even though she’d been working for dirty criminals like Emmanuel Alonso her entire life. Having a good heart in this world meant nothing to anyone except herself, but she stayed true to her somewhat do-good morals; as she navigated the red corridors and her ears listened for any sign of violence nearby, she kept an eye on the young woman under her arm. Even though the stripper was an experiment and had been kidnapped for the purpose of growing a mage inside her body, she was – and would always be – a human with feelings and should be treated carefully. What if something happened to the baby? The mother’s health would affect subject XX4, whether the doctor wanted it to or not. Science had yet to grow babies without using a woman, however impractical it was for the doctor._

_“This way, we should be able to get into a back alley from here.” The test-subject nodded sleepily, which made Sofie relax a bit. It’s much easier to transport a sleepy, but moving, human than it was to transport a drugged one. Despite her occasional trips to the gym the woman was far from strong, instead her strengths lay in mathematical stuff and physics. Not that those qualities were what’s keeping them safe – Sofie would love to be stronger in that moment – but being clever paid off more times than never and was a pretty useful trait when dealing with powerful people._

_As the two women traveled through alley after alley in the darkness of the night, the stripper asked the doctor to stop. They halted for a quick moment, the doctor leaning against a brick wall with trash spread around her feet._

_“I’m sorry that you were forced into this experiment, but you’re doing it for the greater good.” Sofie suddenly said, hit by a pang of bad conscience. “I mean, just think about your child – It’s going to be extraordinary. My future child is going to be normal, unlike yours. You should be thankful.”_

_The stripper had had enough. She’d already been through so much, and here this bitch was, preaching about ‘the greater good’. Because of the sedatives from before, which really weren’t as strong as the doctor had wanted them to be, especially because of this woman’s high tolerance of drugs, subject XZ4 wasn’t tired in the least._

_“Listen up_ bitch _! You kidnapped me, treated me like a whore for a whole week, nobody knows where I am, I’m fucking pregnant against my will, and you’re telling me that ‘it’s for the greater good’? You’re fucking sick, and I can’t even go back to my job because I’ll be giving birth in 9. Fucking. Months.”_

_“Okay –  calm down, I feel like you’re looking at this the wrong way and letting your anger out through swear words-“_

_“You almost drugged me again. As if it wasn’t humiliating enough to strap me to the table, the sedatives just had to be the cherry on top.” The mother-to-be sneered angrily with clenched fists. She reached into her bra, gripping something inside it. “That green liquid… What kind of drugs was it? Was that the sedatives? Will it give me cancer or something? Is it the baby?”_

_Sofie tried to shush her with a calming tone, but it didn’t work like she wanted it to. After telling subject XZ4 that the liquid was the magic used for her exceptionally gifted baby, not some grade-A, expensive drug, the blonde-haired figure took a decision. As her hand drawed out the sealed-off test tube with magic from her bra, she sent the doctor who had made her life a living hell a death glare._

_“I overheard you saying that too much unprotected magic can be harmful. I really hope that this kills you.” When the vial shattered against the doctor’s forehead, and the pattering of running feet could be heard in the dark spring night, something broke inside Sofie’s mind. The world faded into a black, blurry mess that she couldn’t make anything out of, and her body fell harshly to the ground._

_The last thing that Dr. Jürgensen thought about before losing her memory was the wellbeing of the baby and its future. How would a stripper survive with a child that was practically owned by Emmanuel Alonso?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has just turned into shitty writing, as if it wasn't bad enough already. I might consider rewriting it, but I'd rather just finish the story. I have an initial feeling of what i want to happen before i finish it. If you're wondering, then yes the ending involves magic and Frans fluff.  
> I REWROTE CHAPTER 1+2. CHECK IT OUT IF POSSIBLE.


	17. Porcelain Skin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's finally up! I decided to cut the chapter in two, because I ended up with 4000 words more than I put into one chapter. That means that the big plottwist coming up will be in either next chapter or the one after that, but in the meantime I tie up some loose ends. (Like how Caleb really needs to get Frisk's ass back to Greenmay City)  
> I also throw in some metaphors to Frisk's feelings, that you might catch.

On second thought, perhaps he shouldn’t have yelled so much at her. His soul is still hurting from seeing her so miserable, and the urge to just turn around and waltz back home to comfort her is stronger than it should be. He’s never felt that way before with a human and it _scares_ him.

It’s quite understandable that she’s feeling overlooked – if you ignore the fact that Sans has come to her rescue two times in the past week, that is. Still, that doesn’t really explain her sudden outburst back at the mansion…

 _Maybe it’s that time of month_ , he muses, _Dr. Alphys told me something about human women’s monthly cycle, and they tend to get emotional and hungry. That might be it._

Of course, if Sans was a mind reader, he would know that this isn’t the case. Frisk’s emotional clusterfuck is caused by an entirely different thing – or _things_ – and the female cycle has nothing to do with this. But he’s got so much stuff on his plate right now, too much for him to pay attention to every little detail about her life… Right? It’s not like he’s being rude by taking some time to handle business, especially with this gang war coming up. It’s for her own- and all monsters’ good that he’s doing this. If nobody stops Alonso, then their entire race and all monster supporters are as good as dead.

“Sans? What are you doing here? I thought you had that meeting with Muffet about talking to the spiders in the Ruins. Oh, but wasn’t that at noon?” A voice as meek as a lamb exclaims, bringing him back from his train of thought. He looks further up the stone path he’s walking on, to find Alphys staring him down with confused eyes. She must’ve heard his steps on the stones. As he nods, his grin grows tense under her gaze, making the doctor even more unsettled than before.

“Y-you better c-come on inside then… Undyne is out s-shopping groceries for dinner.” She murmurs, recognizing his troubled mood. He tries to make his smile more genuine to not worry her too much, but it doesn’t work the way he wants it too. His mood isn’t well enough to put up an act.  _Great._ He thinks.  _Now I've made her so nervous that she's stammering again._

“thanks doc.”

She leads him away from her porch and into her living room, but he insists on going to her secret lab instead.

“i found somethin’ in da pocket ‘f that scientist workin’ fer alonso. but i want ta get yer opinion on this as well before i inform my dad an’ asgore.” It’s not that he’s hesitant about telling the two Dons – actually he wants them to know as fast as possible – but during the years on the surface, he’s learnt that Alphys is handy to ask for advice because of her sharp intelligence and intuition. Despite her failed experiments from the Underground, her work is astounding and fascinating, and it should be Sans who makes big eyes and turns impressed, not her.

“It’s t-true then? Y-you single-handedly captured the mega s-strong scientist from under Alonso’s nose? O-oh I have to write a fanfic about this… J-just wait until Undie gets h-home! She’ll love it!” The dinosaur beams with inspiration for her future work, but it’s most likely just going to be a rough draft before she moves on to her next sudden idea, just as it is turns out most of the time.

“focus, doc. this is real’ serious business, ‘kay? i’m talkin’ ‘bout losin’ this war against humans. fer real.” He says.

Alphys nods seriously, doing her best not to get too discouraged from his words. Her eyes lose their excitement from before, replaced by two dark pits marking her intrusive depression; a sight Sans has grown very familiar with since the bad luck started following the monster race. He raises a comforting hand to place on her shoulder, and she smiles appreciatingly.

“O-of course. I’ll take you r-r-right away!” The fidgety monster finally says after a moment to stow away her gloomy thoughts. It makes Sans proud to watch her overcome her fears to help him, and the skeleton suddenly understands why Undyne fell so hard for her; she might be cautious and have fears, but her heart is always in the right place. She’s slowly overcoming her anxiety with the help of her friends. A progression that makes Sans proud to call her his friend.

The pair walks into a small office with a bookcase as tall as the ceiling. The place is almost taken out of a movie, or in Alphys’ case, an anime, though it reminds Sans of the one from that movie – James Bond?

Her claws grab a specific book – the only red one in the entire collection – which makes the bookcase slide sideways, revealing the entrance to her secret lab.

“I love doing that…” She whispers, regaining some of the light in her eyes again. A genuine smile blossoms on Sans face, though he tries to hide it. After all that time in the Underground it was only when they came to the surface that he and Alphys became good friends. _Why did it take so long for me to get to know her? Like, really know her? She’s hilarious to be around with when she isn’t in a pensive mood, and even then it’s nice to be with someone who understands what it feels like to be down._

The secret lab isn’t as big as the lab from the Underground – not even remotely close – but that doesn’t matter to her. She just needs a space to experiment a bit, and the two of them like to come up with crazy ideas in here together. Just two weeks ago they hacked into a tv-channel and broadcasted a video of Sans pranking Papyrus in several different ways, many which involved a whoopee cushion and something called… maymays? Sans doesn’t know how to pronounce it, but he’s especially a big fan of this app called Wine. The users can create their own 6-seconds long videos, and they usually get very creative. The two monsters have even created their own profile where they post videos on occasion.

“What do you want to show me?” She asks. Sans takes out the USB-drive from his pocket before he points to the giant computer at the end of the room.

“let’s put this in first, yea?”

 

* * *

 

The sun shines through the swaying white curtains, waking Frisk up from her deep sleep with a grunt. She lazily blinks her eyes open, not quite remembering that she’s in the Gaster mansion. While she yawns and stretches her arms widely, it dawns on her that she isn’t back home anymore. Not the worst thought to wake up to.

That’s until she realizes that Sans forced her to sleep in the afternoon, and this golden light from her windows is definitely not the evening sunset. She slept through the afternoon, evening, night and woke up to sunrise? That’s more than _half_ a day, she calculates cleverly, but her proudness of her mathematic skills isn’t enough to make her forget the shock of missing so much time where she could’ve been working on the new case. Just how is it possible that she slept for this long? She shouldn’t be in bed; she should be outside helping Sans prepare for the war between him and Los Amparadores, not in here playing Sleeping Beauty.

It takes some time to maneuver out of bed without supporting too much on her sore left foot, but when she finally makes it to the bathroom door in the other end of the room, she hisses in pain. Her long walk yesterday wasn’t good for the burns on her poor foot, and it wouldn’t surprise her if it’s full of blisters; she knows for sure that her right foot is full of them at least. Oh, and how a warm bath sounds so good after the events from the last week. Her body feels sore and old when she steps into the shower cabin, but the water seems to do wonders helping massaging it all away. A disappointed sigh almost escapes her swollen lips when she realizes it’s time to get out.

She walks stark-naked into her room – something she does often when Tana isn’t home – simply enjoying the breeze coming from her opened window. Alone time doesn’t come in big amounts, so she has to enjoy it while it lasts, she bitterly commentates as she limps over to the wooden closet. Her hands slide over the many different fabrics inside with curiosity and admiration, as her eyes greedily assesses the beautiful handiwork. Not too many dresses or shirts are on the hangers, but in the light of how little Sans knows about her it really amazes the woman just how right he got her taste. In a different life he might’ve been a great stylist, Frisk muses with a grin. Dress after dress she wonders about something new: ‘ _how did he know I love red?’, ‘not even a single thing is the wrong size’, ‘did he get this because he thought I would look hot in it, or because he figured I like pantsuits?’._ Pantsuits. The way to Frisk’s heart.

Frisk settles on a gorgeous pantsuit in red and black, with a small heart embroided inside its chest pocket. It’s not long before she deems herself worthy of going outside the room to look for Tana, (really, she’s looking for Sans, Tana’s just the excuse), but she doesn’t like the idea of limping around the Gaster estate: it’d just prove that everyone is right in their assumption that Frisk is a fragile child in need of assistance all the time. But, seeing as there aren’t any healing candies or a healer nearby, she doesn’t have any other choice but to venture outside in her pathetic state. _Walking with blisters, and the aftermath of being burned all over, would slow down anyone_ , she comforts herself, _not just me._

Comments about sucking it up and walking straight goes on repeat in her mind. Frisk isn’t necessarily a proud woman, but when it comes to injuries – and she’s had many of those – there’s a certain part of her that won’t admit that they exist. Bullet wound? No big deal, get her a first aid kit and some sweets. Broken arm? Oh, that’s fine, she’ll just relocate it and either hide out in her room with the sling or take down a couple of gangsters on the street corner. Knife slash? Puh-lease, hand her that skin-colored band-aid and she’ll never speak of it again. But mostly she chews healing candies like there’s no tomorrow. She’s pretty sure that if there’s an addiction-group for magic-candies users, she should be its honor member.

If anyone passes her in the hallways, she quickly focuses on walking normally, and the second that they’re gone, it’s right back to limping all the way down to where she thinks the kitchen is.

_I hide all my first-aid stuff in the kitchen cabinets, so they must do so too, right?_

Much to her irritation, Frisk finds out that they don’t. The chair creaks in surprise when the human bumps down in it with all of her weight, too tired to stand up after a walk that long. The healing magic has completely worn off since yesterday, leaving her begging for a new body, annoyed and unbelievably sore – and hungry. Oh yeah, she’s really starving. Her feet protest furiously after she walks over to the fridge in search for some breakfast. She just now remembers that she didn’t eat anything else than lunch yesterday, or food at all the days before _that_. Does she have the patience to create a big breakfast, or is she going to settle on some cereal? The decision is difficult to make, but in the end she doesn’t have to, as a porcelain creature enters the kitchen wearing a chef’s outfit. He’s shaped like a human – but made of perfectly white porcelain – and Frisk wonders how the monster manages to move around at all. More confusingly, how the creature has silk-like black hair slicked back. When the chef’s sapphire blue eyes lock with hers she smiles in greeting, relieved that it’s not necessary to make breakfast herself.

“Goodmorning, sir.” The monster smiles back with teeth that are somehow even whiter than his skin, making the questions race around in the back of her mind, although Frisk does her best to keep them under lock and key.

“Goodmorning, my dear! You must be Ms. Marchetti, correct?”

“Uh, yes, that’s right. And you must be the house chef then?” The monster nods before answering.

“The very one. My name is Petrivan Jones, but you can call me Trivan if you please. Everyone around here does so, and I think formalities are so unnecessary, don’t you? Anyway, you must be absolutely starving, you poor thing! Let me make you something to eat before you wither away from pure starvation. Now, where did Undyne put my good knife?”

The chef goes to work quite quickly, finding all he needs in a matter of seconds, much to Frisk’s stomach’s appreciation. He’s so fast that his movements turn into a blurry mess, making the woman concerned for his well-being through her haze of hunger. What if he cracks a finger or hits something and breaks entirely? With the speed he’s going at and the delicate condition his skin seems to be in constantly a hit could result in a very dangerous and damaging injury. But then again, he seems like he knows what he’s doing and so far he hasn’t made one misstep whatsoever, so maybe he isn’t in as much danger as she thought. Still, she almost cringes in her seat when he moves to open a drawer with haste and precision to get out a knife to cut vanilla pods. Frisk’s teeth water in desperation as the smell of pancakes floats tenderly around the room and her stomach isn’t too ashamed to rumble. A wave of relief that the chef didn’t accidentally hurt himself doing the cooking comes over her when he’s done with the pancakes some time later, and he presents the stack to her with syrup and chocolate sauce on top.

“Eat them while they’re hot, my dear, I’ll cut some fruit for you in the meantime. Would you rather like pineapple and watermelon or pears and mangos? Ah, you know what, I’ll make them all – And perhaps some yoghurt and a smoothie would serve your figure quite well too. I must say, you almost look like my dear master skeleton himself! Now should the yoghurt be with strawberries on top or would you rather not?” Trivan doesn’t wait for her answer before turning around and getting out a cutting board and multiple types of fruit. He chops hastily with inhuman speed, not even the shadow of a mistake. But maybe that’s just because Frisk doesn’t notice much since she’s engulfing her mouth with food.

A whole hour later – when she and Trivan have been through different dishes and conversation topics – she doesn’t leave the kitchen with an empty stomach.

 

* * *

 

Instead of finding the skeleton that has been running around in her mind, she stumbles upon a different familiar face in the main living room, whose head is turned away from her. The figure on the couch is wearing a black shirt – with several of the buttons open – and blue jeans ripped on the knees from doing too many parkour rolls. In his left hand he’s holding a cup of tea, which Frisk guesses must be strawberry, and in the right a phone. He’s talking with someone important and pissed off, judging by the way he’s acting, so Frisk decides to wait before interrupting.

“Yes sir, I’ll do that immediately. Of course, sir, Tana is safe and sound. I’m so terribly sorry sir, I won’t let Frisk out of my sight again. As said before, _sir_ , I’ll send the report after this conversation, but no, the Gasters don’t seem unfriendly or hostile. It’s actually the opposite; your daughters have their own rooms and Wing Dings Gaster has been so welcoming to us, we don’t need a single thing… Of course, none of us are too trusting, as we shouldn’t be – Oh you’re getting a new call? That’s alright sir, I’ll just send the report – Yes sir, I’ll tell Frisk to call you. Goodbye.” He hangs up with a relieved sigh, Frisk relating to every bit of emotion that he’s feeling right now. Her foster dad can be pretty unnerving to talk with.

“I’m guessing that was Thomas, huh?” She says. Caleb turns around with a relaxed motion, already knowing she was there. He slurps a drink of his tea with a grave expression on his face, warning Frisk that whatever they talked about wasn’t good. _Great,_ she complains, _now I have one more thing to worry about._

“I'll be surprised if you couldn’t hear him with the volume he was screaming at. He’s still fuming after you and Tana’s idiotic stunts and shenanigans, so you’re lucky if he doesn’t skin you alive." She's about to wonder if Vincent knows, but Caleb knows her better than she knows herself. "No, Vincent doesn’t know about this yet. Me and Emilia only reported back to Thomas, but he’ll find out if Angela finds out. Let’s just hope we can keep this on the low and get the two of you back before anyone who shouldn’t know finds out. Also, you need to call your father, he forced me to remind you.”

“Yeah, yeah – did he say anything else than that or did he just use you as a way to get out his anger?” He deliberately sips his tea before answering.

“Oh, he was _definitely_ using me as a way to get out his anger, but he also mentioned that Tana wants him to help with the upcoming gang war here.”

“And?”

“He said no. Since my father..." He trials off, his eyes becoming far-away. Frisk gives him a moment to gather himself. After all, he can't have it easy after losing his father. When he finally pulls himself together, it's with a twitch of his lips accompanied by a sharp inhale. "Since my father killed Adrian and Sans killed Dominic we’ve already had our revenge, which is why he doesn’t want to get further involved. It’s ‘too risky’ as he called it.”

“’Too risky’? Oh, he can’t be serious! He has to help them, we’re talking about the destruction of an entire race if Emmanuel wins! Do you really think he’ll stop with the mafias? Because I don’t! I think he’ll keep going, hunting down every last monster until his dying breath, and _that_ man has escaped death multiple times.”

Caleb sighs again, signaling Frisk to sit down beside him on the couch. Before downing the entire cup of tea he lays his phone on the coffee table with a troubling expression on his face.

“Do you know someone named Mr. Baklavas?” He asks.

“Mr. Baklavas? Sure I do, he helped me on the kidnapping case. He’s a really nice guy actually.” She eyes him down suspiciously. “Why do you ask?”

The man is torn, not really knowing if he should tell her. Pain is the last thing he wants Frisk to experience, but if he doesn’t tell her and she finds out that he kept it from her – well, she'll most likely rip his head off.

“Yesterday I went to his bookstore because Tana wanted to make sure that he was alright, but he… wasn’t there. The whole place was thrashed, so Tana thinks that Emmanuel kidnapped him for knowing too much. I – I’m really sorry, Frisk. I don’t know how much you knew him, but if Alonso has him, then–“

“Then he’s gone.”

“Yes… My point exactly.”

She blinks back tears for the death of her brave friend, turning her head away so Caleb won’t notice.

_He did nothing wrong, I’m sure of that. If only I hadn’t left him alone! I should’ve told him to hide from his surveillance or given him some money to travel to Greens. At least then he wouldn’t be gone now._

The room is silent for a good amount of time, but Caleb doesn’t pressure her to say anything. The guard puts an arm around her shoulders in a hug, a motion that helps her mood a bit. Now she knows that she can’t let his sacrifice go to waste in any way. If she hadn’t decided it before, then she has now.

“You have to go back Frisk. You can’t stay here. It’s a death sentence to stay with the losing side at this point.” Caleb finally says after a while of quiet.

“They wouldn’t be the losing side if we help them, though. We can make a difference, save so many lives! All we have to do is convince Vincent and Thomas.” Her face lights up in excitement, but it quickly turns into disappointment when Caleb refuses to humor her idea. His shaking head makes her angry, but it’s not his fault that Thomas and Vincent can’t be convinced to help out; they’re selfish by nature.

“I’m not coming back home until this is solved.” _The question is, though, where_ is  _my home?_   “So either you let me help them or I’ll never go back to Greenmay City.”

“I wish I could help you, but it’s not my decision. I have orders to protect you and bring you back home safely, so I’m not risking your skin – or mine – for stopping some vile mobsters. That’s just business, but certainly none of _ours_.” She locks eyes with him in an intense staring contest. 

“Well,” _I'm sorry Caleb, but I can't do it._ “I’m _making_ it my business.”

Her words are still left with Caleb long after she isn’t, running around in his head, demanding to get attention. Both sisters have pleaded to stay and fight Los Amparadores, and now it seems that Frisk has set her mind on staying no matter what. This isn’t good at all for Caleb, he realizes, but now there doesn’t seem to be a choice. He has to protect the sisters at all costs. Which means that if they’re staying…

Well, then so is he.

 

* * *

 

After spending the entire night in the lab with Alphys, discussing how possible it might be for Emmanuel to succeed in creating a mage, Sans warping back to Muffet to discuss sending spider spies into the Ruins, and succeedingly spending over 12 hours away from his human, it’s safe to say that the last thing Sans wants to do is give his father some bad news. The thought of explaining what Sofie was doing in that lab to Wingdings isn’t that attractive, and definitely gives him cold sweat on the back of his spine.

Well, that’s one of the things that makes him nervous at least. The drive home from Muffet wasn’t that pleasant either. The Riverperson – or River for short – is well-known for spouting important nonsense at weird times, especially when he drives people from place to place. As more and more time passes, the event he predicted is going to happen won’t leave the skeleton alone. He has a small hope that what River said is false and won’t come true, but then again everything that comes out of River’s mouth has proven to happen or be correct. While close to nothing really seems to chill him down to his bones, Sans isn’t stupid enough to disregard the psychics warning.

His sour mood follows him all the way into his father’s office, where the Don sits broodingly at the mahogany desk. On the floor are the shadows from the red and scrumptious drapes pulled aside at the window, moving ever so slightly as the wind’s gentle touch caresses the fabric. The light of dawn shines through, casting the room in an orange tint that makes everything seem golden. Despite the expensive holstering that covers the Don’s chair, he looks far from relaxed with his droopy eyes and the tight line his mouth is in. Even though he tries to cover up his exhaustion with a greeting smile, Sans sees right through it in an instant. As hard as this gang war is on Sans’ sleep schedule, it’s twice as hard on his father’s, which his shrunken physique is evident on. The darkness that curls around his figure has become darker than usual and taken on the effect of looking into the Void itself. _Yeah_ , Sans realizes, _I might have it tough, but pops is holding together for the sake of the universe. What if it was me that could end up sending the world into the eternal nothingness of the Void?_

“aH sAnS. wHaT a NiCe SuRpRiSe AfTeR tHe NiGhT I’vE hAd. PlEaSe, SiT dOwN.” Wing Dings says.

His son does as told, precautiously taking the seat in front of him with a calculating look. The stoic Don pretends not to notice his pointed gaze, and instead tries to go for the unbothered appearance that a Don has to wear in order for his people to remain calm. Of course, Sans sees right through that as well right away.

“uh, pops… ya don’t look that well. are ya getting’ ‘nough sleep?” His voice is laced with worry, but it only serves to irritate Wingdings, whose eyes squint back at his comment.

“YoU’rE oNe To TaLk. YoUr MaGiC iS aLmOsT dEpLeTeD, aNd YoU hAvE tHe GrUmPy LoOk On YoUr FaCe ThAt YoU gEt WhEn YoU’rE tIrEd.”

Sans sighs. There isn’t time for their bickering when the future of monsters is at stake. As he waves one hand in dismissal, the skeleton reaches for the USB drive in his pocket so he can put it in the laptop in front of his father.

“i found this on dr. jürgensen yesterday, an’ i brought it ta alphys for examination. turns out alonso’s tryin’ ta bring back mages, almost succeeded too if we hadn’t attacked da lab.”

Wingdings connects the drive with his computer to view the doctor’s video diaries, his face chiseled with exhaustion. He skims through all the numbers on the videos to find out that there’s over 50 different experiments filmed and documented. And those are just the ones that _one_ of Emmanuel’s scientists recorded. Who knows how many laboratories he has out there?

“tHiS iS oUtRaGoUsLy MaNy FoRmUlAs…” In a fit of surrender he hides his warping face in his hands. “I sUpPoSe YoU aLrEaDy WaTcHeD aLl Of ThEsE. gIvE mE a SuMmArY, fOr ThE sAkE oF mY sAnItY.”

“right. ah, da latest one ‘s from da attack, an’ it shows dr. jürgensen implantin’ a magic-infused egg in a woman’s womb. da video ends ‘fore we see what happens ta them. we don’t know what happened in between their escape and dr. jürgensen’s arrival at muffet’s, but we need ta find da woman.” He taps the table in irritation. “ya know that pregnancy serum ya created? nyridigon? yea, she used that. we have ta find ‘er quickly.”

A sigh is the last thing Sans hears from his father, before he beckons his assistant inside to go call in an emergency meeting between the Gasters and Dreemurrs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to delete chapter 17 (the update chapter) in some days time, just so people won't get confused. Chapter 18 is well on its way as well, so be ready to getting hit with feels.


	18. The Mage With Eyes of a Ruby

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're back with some more drama and angst...  
> And some more angst. Mostly angst.  
> I think there's some important set-up's too, but hey ANGST

His head hurts like hell. So far there’s been no break for him to catch a breath or an opportunity to visit Frisk, which doesn’t suit him at all. It’s just work, after work, after work, after work, with no light at the end of the tunnel. He isn’t even sure if he can _see_ the end. Maybe this mafia business really will be the death of him, after all.

On the first floor there’s a meeting hall looking out into the garden. More precisely, the artificial waterfall and miniature lake that are encircled with colorful flowers and rugged rocks. Sans stands with his gloved hands clasped behind his back as he observes the fluttering birds searching for something to eat around the water, but their hypnotic movements do little to nothing in soothing him in this crowded room. The centered conference table is filled with important people from both sides of their families, with the two Dons seated on their respective ends of the table. Hushed voices from some of the capos carry to Sans’ ears – well, his magical senses that register soundwaves. When Wingdings clears his throat to get everyone’s attention, his son turns slightly towards the table, but still gazes longingly at the outside world. All other monsters present, and the one human, give Wingdings their full attention, but the Don isn’t the one to speak. Instead Sans gathers his last amount of energy, so that he appears to be strong and well-rested.

“we called ya here fer this ‘mergency meetin’ ‘cause i found somethin’ incredibly dangerous that ya should all know ‘f.” He says with a voice of a stage performer that catches every single soul off guard. Except that of his father and his brother.

The monsters present turn confused by this sudden change of spokesperson, but they know better than to question Sans’ status as the underboss. In reality, it would be best if Wingdings was the one to break the news, as he’s undoubtedly the most charismatic of the two of them, but seeing as the Don’s state is so bad that his voice is acting up, both father and son agreed on the fact that Sans should take control of this meeting, while Wingdings would just nod in agreement.

“some ‘f ya might’ve heard of da infamous scientist dr. jürgensen, an extraordinarily intelligent woman employed by da one an’ only mista alonso. muffet an’ i found ‘er in da bakery wit memory loss, so i brought ‘er to our basement fer a quick search witout harmin’ ‘er too much, since alonso wants ‘er back alive. i found a usb-drive wit sum video-diaries on ‘er, an’ alphys agreed that they’re close ta reinstatin’ mages inta da world. Should this not be a ruse, designed ta misinform us an’ make us focus on da wrong thing, then we have ta find da woman that they call alpha xz 4 ‘fore she gives birth. da baby can _never_ see da light ‘f day, even if it takes many ‘f our lives. it has ta be done.” He dramatically pauses for effect. “fer da _future_ ‘f monsta kind!”

The room erupts into a frenzy before he even finishes speaking; Undyne slams her fists on the table, Alphys tries to calm her down, the other capos gestures wildly while discussing something, Asriel speaks furiously with his parents, Mettaton looks aghast while Papyrus tries to comfort him.

The only one who doesn’t seem bothered at all is Chara. Meanwhile Asriel is occupied by his heated discussion with Mrs. and Mr. Dreemurr, the young man merely glances at his nails, indifferent to the threat of extinction of the entire monster race. Whatever, right? It’s only his whole adoptive family that’s going to die, and perhaps even himself if Emmanuel won’t spare the monster sympathizers. No big deal.

“QUIET!” A deep voice, filled to the brim of authority, yells. Asgore. At once everyone falls silent as they turn to look at the up-standing beast. “Let him finish.”

The skeleton eyes down all the monsters present, making sure that they all look at him. There’s Undyne and Alphys. Asgore and Toriel. Asriel and Chara. Papyrus and Mettaton. All the capos and the right-hand men.

Sans nods in thanks before continuing. “dr. alphys an’ i found out that they were usin’ nyridigon ta speed up da process. fer those ‘f ya who dunno, it’s somethin’ don gasta – my pops over there – created fer my mom ‘cause ‘f sum medical issues. eh ta keep a long story short, it makes da pregnancy last 9 weeks fer a human instead ‘f 9 months. so, if we don’ find ‘er before that then we might as well jus’ lay down an’ die. that’s why–“ Even though they quickly talked about it before the meeting, Sans glances towards his dad to make sure he agrees with the plan. He nods, gesturing Sans to stand behind him. With a hand on his father’s shoulder and an overlook of their allies he finishes.

“that’s why we’ve decided that we’re gonna create 3 teams ‘f people best suited fer da jobs. da first will be in carge ‘f regaining dr. jürgensen’s memories so we can hopefully get sum info ‘bout that woman she got pregnant. da second one will be responsible fer investigatin’ da whereabouts ‘f ‘er, an’ da third will be comin’ wit me ta blow up da rest ‘f their labs an’ progress. now, in regards of who goes on which teams, me an’ my pops did sum thinkin’. team one will be da followin’: dr. alphys an’ whoever she needs ta help ‘er.” At first she grips her girlfriend in fear, but Undyne does her best to assure her that she’s right for the job. The fish-lady strokes her comfortingly while she mutters encouragement.

“Yeah. She can do it!” Undyne answers after a moment. Alphys smiles shyly to the table. “My girlfriend is the awesomest person in the whole world! She’ll get the loser’s memory back in _no time_!”

Erupting around the table are various types of excitement and agreement. Papyrus laughs with his ‘ _nyeh-heh-heh_ ’, Asriel smiles brightly and even Toriel says something about Alphys being the best candidate for the job.

“now as fer da whole blowin’ up stuff like there’s no tomorrow… i think we all know who needs ta be on that team.” He turns to Undyne with a telling look in his eyes.

“OH HELL YES! LET ME GIVE THEM A TASTE OF THEIR OWN MEDICINE!!!!11!!1 I’LL SHOW THEM WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU TRY TO KIDNAP _MY_ GIRLFRIEND!” The maniac exclaims, bolting upright in excitement. A bright smile blossoms on Alphys’ face as her girlfriend hugs her passionately.

“alright, alright… ‘dyne ya might wanna get da dog squad ta come too, ‘specially doggo. i’m thinkin’ we get them an’ maybe i can persuade grillby. if anyone can it has ta be me.”

Around the table they all exchange nods and ‘ _yeah, that’s true_ ’s. But now the question stands: who’s going to join the last team?

Mettaton says what they’re all thinking.

“My darlings, just who is going to find the pregnant human? Not to be rude or anything, but none of us act like Sherlock Holmes.”

Once more, the table agrees. Underground it wasn’t necessary to have detectives since it was unlikely to get lost, and why would you? Monsters aren’t unfriendly by nature and very rarely act with malice against one another, so the odds of needing a detective was almost in the negative.

“yea so i did sum thinkin’ – who can we trust that is good at solvin’ cases like these? in times like these, no respectable p.i.’s will side wit anyone. it’s only da logical thing ta do.”

This could go one of two ways – either this works out perfectly well, or this is the worst decision he’ll ever make. For the life of him he hopes that it’s not the latter.

“tana an’ frisk marchetti owe us fer savin’ them. it’s ‘bout time that they pay us back, dontcha think?”

 

* * *

 

Frankly, Frisk couldn’t be happier when she hears of the news.

“You’re letting me help you with this case?” Her voice is filled with gratitude and appreciation as she lovingly takes hold of his gloved hands. “Oh Sans, thank you! I know you won’t regret it. We’ll find this lady no matter what!” His face lights up in a genuine smile, making her heart thump dangerously against her chest.

Ever since their argument, they haven’t gotten time to really talk about their feelings (or lack thereof?), and Frisk can’t wait with that conversation much longer. She desperately needs to know what he feels about her and how they can make it work. But even after this morning’s disagreement with Caleb, the threat of Vincent or Angela finding out about this trip, and even the confusion about what Frisk’s even trying to accomplish here, she still manages to forget about it all at the sight of him. Maybe that’s the whole point of staying, she realizes. Even though he’s a mobster, it doesn’t mean that he’s necessarily a _bad_ guy, right? The reason they’re even doing this in the first place is because of the racism problem going on; if Emmanuel hadn’t started Los Amparadores, then the Gaster family and the Dreemurr family wouldn’t have needed to retaliate. It won’t make her go against her morals if she pursues a relationship with him, she thinks, not when she’s done dirty things herself. Frisk isn’t a saint. Far from it. She’s killed, beat, hustled and played her fair share of people. Like it or not she’s just as tainted as he is.

“uh, sweetheart – ya listenin’?” Shaking her head, she tries to concentrate again. If her thoughts could just stop piling up and distracting her, she’d appreciate it a lot.

“I’m sorry babe–“ she starts absent-mindedly, not realizing what she’s just called him before it’s too late. Her eyes go wide for a moment, but much to her comfort he doesn’t seem to mind. If anything, it looks as if he likes it, what with the sexy grin he’s wearing and whatnot.

“space out all ya like if ya gonna call me that.” She smiles back. Taking hold of his lapels and dragging him downwards, she kisses him on the cheekbone. Why is her mind plainly ignoring their argument? Is she trying to distract herself from something?

“What did you say while I was buried in my thoughts?”

“jus’ that ya need ta take care ‘f yaself an’ tana out there. da ruins ain’t a place fer someone like ya.” As if pushing a button, instantly she turns defensive.

“Why? Because I’m _fragile_?!” Realizing his mistake, Sans capitulates with his hands. This isn’t a fight he wants to take right now.

“ _no_ , ‘cause ya’re spendin’ time wit me. If ya hadn’ noticed, alonso don’ like humans that confer wit monstas. ‘specially not…” He grows closer to her, hands slipping around her waist. A rosy nuance colors her cheeks as they grow hotter than the rest of her body at his growling voice. “those that are – intimate – wit us…”

With hitching breath she lets him kiss her, ignoring the fact that she should be out doing so much else. There’s the man from her dreams, the problem with Dr. Jürgensen, finding the fetus mage, calling Thomas…

She hums into the kiss, leaning further in to his caring caresses. Had she known that he had been holding back this much, she wouldn’t have worried about whether or not he liked her. She wonders how he went through this huge change, from angry to loving.

Whatever. _I’m shutting my thoughts off now._

Luckily for Frisk, the red-eyed man from her dreams doesn’t show up again when Sans teleports them to her room. At first she doesn’t notice the sudden shift of surroundings, so when he pushes her hungrily down on the bed she yelps in surprise. Not even a split-second passes before he’s above her, his huge body encircling her. In a quick motion she pushes his jacket off, a service he happily returns. They take turns pushing off her clothes. Then the skeleton abruptly stops.

“ya sure ‘bout this, sweetheart? remember what i said when we first met–“

“I want this. To be honest I couldn’t care less about staying out of trouble now – it finds me anyway.”

He growls in agreement, hurrying with the rest of the clothes. When all that’s left between their bodies are Frisk’s underwear and Sans’ shirt and pants, they meet in a heated kiss once again. This time his crackling tongue joins, licking her sensually. Jolts of raw pleasure is the result. She moans appreciatively as his phalanges – somehow still covered by his gloves – go to work between her thighs. Somewhere deep in her mind she recognizes the sparkling magic – the same coming from his tongue – covering them so they won’t give her burns or feel uncomfortable.

Slipping through her entrance, she smirks in expectance. She’s wanted this for a long time although it wasn’t totally clear in the beginning. As the rhythmic thrusting of his fingers moves her instinctively, she can’t help but moan his name.

“ _Sans._ ”

Her mind melts into oblivion slowly yet steadily, but she doesn’t care at all. The only thing that matters is him, his charming smile and his hungry wish for _her_. Yes. That’s what matters.

“do ya like that sweetheart?” he whispers.

Before answering with a soft yes, she feels the goosebumps traveling across her skin. Inside of her, she feels his fingers leaving, but the absence between her legs isn’t for long.

A buzzing thing starts licking her entrance. The nerves there order her to moan once again in pleasure, so she happily obliges. He starts licking his way inside her, making sure to reach every part available to him. His tongue is amazing,  _more_  than amazing. Its hot buzzing takes her to the edge of an orgasm. A jolting wave of pleasure hits, making her come while his wet tongue is still licking her. She moans to encourage him further. It isn’t until deja vú sparks something in her that she immediately loses her good mood.

_Something isn’t right…_

His hands dance from her waist and lower down her thighs.

_I–_

Sans doesn’t stop even though she’s already had an orgasm. Tickling her playfully, he kisses the inside of her thighs. And then stops at her lack of reaction.

_This has happened before–_

“…sweetheart?” She doesn’t notice him slowly gliding back from her.

_My dream. The nightmare. Glowing, red eyes…_

“babe?” No response, so he tries again. “…hey ya alright? did i hurt ya?”

Frisk tries to blink herself back to reality, but the thoughts rush in like water from a broken dam. What’s going on? It’s just a coincidence that this is the exact same thing that happened in her dream, right? Every couple does this, and it’s not like Frisk hasn’t done it with her old boyfriends… Purely chance is behind this. Yes, it’s not as if every part of the dream has come true. The scary man is nowhere to be seen. Even if he was, Frisk’s sure that Sans would protect her from him. Nobody’s stronger than Sans.

But she needs to hear it from him too.

“Sans?” She whispers as she sits herself straight. Only then does she realize how he’s sitting on the end of the bed, scrutinizing her with his sparkly gaze. It makes her blush.

“ya okay?” There’s no hesitation from Frisk when he reaches out a hand for her to take.

“There’s not a human stronger than you, right? I- I mean, there… can’t be. You can teleport, you can summon sharp bones and giant skeletal heads, you can–“

“poison my enemies wit my attacks an’ crack a few jokes in da meantime? yea i’ve got sum’ _entoxicatin’_ charm about me, haven’t i?” During his answer he probably concluded that she isn't in the mood anymore, so he picks her black shirt off the floor to put around her shoulders in a comforting manner. She smiles at him with pearly teeth. He returns it, hopefully not blaming her for the sudden change of mood. Lately there’s been a lot going on in her life – at least more than usual – and with all this pressure from Thomas to go back to Greenmay, the creepy guy from the nightmare, the monsters’ plea for help, and now her own thoughts, it just… She really is on an emotional rollercoaster. Poor Sans.

“Oh dammit, I’m so sorry. I totally ruined this, didn’t I?”

“yea, ya did.” She winces, looking down in shame.

“So stupid–“

“but i don’ blame ya, okay? look at me, babe.”

“I can explain!”

_No I can’t._

“then do it. if ya want ta. but if it doesn’ endanger anyone we care ‘bout, then i won’ force ya. shit, sweets ya shakin’…” Judging her state to be arguably hysterical, he hugs her tight. Under his grip she feels safer, yet now that she’s connected this with the first part of the nightmare, she can’t help but wonder when the red-eyed man will show up and make her regret staying.

“I– I don’t know… I really don’t know Sans. I don’t know what to make of it…”

“that’s okay. wanna talk about it?” His voice is warm and smooth, much different from his sexy growl from earlier. This taken into consideration, she must admit that she likes this part of him better right now.

“Uhm– I had this dream…”

_I had a wet dream about us two and then a scary guy told me to stop or he’d kill me. Sounds fun, right?_

“There was this first part of it with us two… And it happened exactly like now.” She waits for him to react, but he only lets go from the hug so he can look her in the eyes as she speaks. His face has as much emotion written on it as a door.

“But then it got kinda weird… Everything got dark, and – uh, that place you teleport through, I think it was that…”

“da void? yer dream showed ya da void?” She nods. That sounds right. Void is the perfect word to describe it with.

“Yeah. That’s the place. But then you disappeared, and this guy show up out of nowhere… with these horrifying red eyes and the most brutal expression. Like he… hates me deep down in his bones? And then he warns me. ‘ _If you do not stay out of New Ebott, you will get involved in matters that do not concern you. Take your family and leave. Do not come back. Ever.'_ So, of course I say no. I mean, I’m not leaving you, right? So he gets pissed off, saying he’ll come after me and Tana, and suddenly he’s choking me. Not just in the dream, but in real life too. To be honest, if Tana and Undyne hadn’t woken me up, I think he would’ve killed me. It was scary as hell. I’ve never been so petrified before in my entire life.” She looks down again. This sounds so crazy to herself that she can’t get herself to believe he’ll take it seriously. To her surprise he seems to do so.

“… diddya say _red_ eyes?” Her nod makes him lose his eyelights. _That’s bad._

“He had this brown bob, and brightly colored cheeks. His demeanor was just so… ominous. As if he was one second from destroying everything near him. I’m just glad he’s still in the void. At least that’s what _I_ think, because I saw him again when you teleported me and Sofie from the lobby to that living room.”

Very suddenly he grabs her shoulders in a tight grip. Frisk gasps at his fast movement but tries not to rile him more up than he seems to already be. Does he know who she’s talking about? Maybe she’s not insane after all. But is that a good or bad thing?

“an’ ya’re absolutely certain that he had red eyes? not brown? blue?” Again she nods.

“Sans what’s going on? Please, I need to know! I’ve been trying to suppress that nightmare for a long time now, and it just isn’t working. If you tell me it might help.”

“yea. it might.”

_Nothing else? You’re shutting me out, just like that?_

“Sans–“ He quickly dresses himself again, pressing his teeth to her forehead in a type of kiss.

“i have ta go babe. if ya’re right, then I have ta take care ‘f this.”

“ _Babe_!” She exclaims, hurrying out of the bed to reach him in time. She stands before him, completely naked. “Please, tell me what’s happening! Don’t treat me like a child anymore. I deserve to know.”

He eyes her hand on his glove, and then her pleading expression. The skeleton sighs in defeat.

“i think i know who ya're talking 'bout... i’ve had a feelin’ ‘bout that kid fer a long time now. he’s dangerous.”

“Let me come with you! I want to help. I can hold my own, just give me a gun or something.” That makes her remember her own gun, lost somewhere in the Ruins after her major fail at The Golden Bull. Weirdly enough, she misses it.

But Sans shakes his head sternly. He’s not having any of it.

“ya can’t come babe. sorry. i know ya can hold yer own an’ kick sum’ ass, but i aint riskin’ it right now, ‘kay? it’s not you, but this kid's not jus’ any human gangsta. even emmanuel alonso is nothin’ compared ta him.” Sensing that she’s about to argue further, he decides to kiss her one more time to butter her up. It helps a lot.

“Fine. But you better come back in one piece, you hear me Sans Gaster? No funny business, and definitely _no jokes_. They’ll distract you!”

“alright babe. no jokes, i swear.” He caresses her cheek with a loving spark returning to his eyes. “Be back ‘fore ya know it.”

When he leaves, Frisk puts on her pantsuit again and tries to search for Tana. She has some apologizing to do, for starters.

Yet, she just can’t shake the odd feeling poking at the back of her mind.

What’s going on with this red-eyed guy, and why does she have a feeling that Sans is about to walk into big trouble?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right around the corner comes the feels train. Buckle in folks.  
> IT'S TIME TO GET THIS TRAIN ON THE ROAD  
> also magic  
> mages about to appear where you didn't think they would...  
> i mean what.


	19. As the Dust Settles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The day has finally arrived. A new chapter with about 5000 words and an unexpected ending. Well, maybe not so unexpected if you paid mind to the small clues, but still.

“YOU GUYS DID _WHAT?_ ” Frisk winces in embarrassment. Is it impossible for her sister to keep her voice down at all?

The brunette shushes her frantically, pushing her back from the door and into her sister’s room before turning the lock. It’s not a conversation she wants everyone to hear about.

“Do you want the entire household to find out?!” While Frisk is busy with her scolding, Tana giggles like a schoolgirl.

 “Find out what?” She asks innocently, fighting to keep her face a clean slate until her composure breaks and her giggling starts anew. When she plops unto the bouncy mattress so she doesn’t fall down from her hysterical state, Frisk scowls in her direction. How typically Tana.

“Ugh, can you take this seriously? I want to talk about it without you behaving like a child.” The woman berates. Her sister nods solemnly but has to fight really hard not to begin her laughter once again. “Tana, _please_! Something else than that happened, okay? Something pretty serious.”

In an instant there’s no sounds in the room. Even the giddy atmosphere is gone.

“Thanks.” Frisk mutters, sitting down next to her. “It’s so weird, and you’re not gonna believe me. I didn’t even think Sans would, but apparently he got creeped out and had to go check up on something right after I said it.”

“So? What is it?”

“You’ll think I belong in an asylum.”

“Probably. But tell me anyway.” Frisk laughs bitterly.

“Okay then. If you insist.”

Despite Tana’s big mouth and loud personality, she shows herself to be a good listener in her sister’s moment of need. As she learns of the nightmare involving the ominous man, she opens her mouth a couple of times but never actually says anything. It’s not until it gets to the part where Sans suddenly just up and leaves that she finally can’t hold it in any longer.

“Ohmygod, that _is_ weird! He didn’t even let you come along. I mean it’s your dream, so you kinda have, like, dips on the case. Unfair.” At that Frisk lets out a genuine laugh.

“I can’t have dips on a case that I dreamt about! What rule is that?”

“Rule number 69 in the Tana Rule Book, duh! Oh, and the 69 means-“

“I don’t want to know about your jokes and memes, Tay.”

“It’s not really a meme _or_ a joke? More like… I don’t know actually. Wait, c’mon ask me what rule 420 is!”

“I’m moving on now.”

“PLEASE!”

“I’ve moved on.” She states with a nod to herself, looking at her nails with loving attention.

“You suck.”

“Oh yeah? Well you’re dumb.”

“ _I’m_ dumb? Which one of us still has their hair looking like it went through one of your knife lessons?” Tana points a finger accusingly at the uneven hair her sister still hasn’t cut.

“Wow, that’s low even for you. I did this because I thought it would save you.” She pouts with fake sadness covering her face. “I was the hero, yet I couldn’t even save my own hair. Such a tragedy.”

“Honestly, I’d watch that if it was a movie. Just imagine; rated m. For mad hair skillz. With a z, not an s.”

Frisk makes her voice deep and dramatic, posing as a voice actor.

“Will she make it out with her hair in one piece? Or will the evil villain Barber John finally get his hands on her long locks?” Tana continues.

“Watch as our heroine fights through damaging hair products, bad hairdressers, impossible tangles and _split ends_.”

“I know we’re joking, but that stuff is just the worst!”

“Reminds me that I need to get my split ends checked up on. You should come with me to the town today, look for a good stylist or something. Trust me Kitty-cat, you really need it…”

“Gee, thanks for the concern.”

Tana laughs.

“Nah, I’m serious. Let’s go grab Emilia and Caleb. My ass is tired of being locked inside here now, I’m not even kidding.”

“Yeah. Me too.”

 

* * *

 

Frisk hates rain. Deeply.

“You’re hogging the umbrella! Give it back!”

“No! I’m the tallest, so _I_ get to hold it!”

Emilia rolls her eyes as Tana holds the umbrella up high. The woman nudges Caleb in an attempt to get him to control the situation. He shrugs.

“Don’t have a death wish. Small pointer – don’t get in between their fights unless your name is Angela. You’ll end up dead.”

Emilia hums in consideration, walking closer to the bodyguard and the umbrella he’s holding.

“Are they not in their early 20’s?”

“Yup. 22 and 26. Doesn’t look like it, huh?” She shakes her head as a disappointed mother.

“They are like children.” He chuckles.

“You got _that_ right. Guess you miss a lot of stuff though when you’re undercover.” Her nod is more thoughtful than sad, but Caleb leaves her alone after that.

“Okay what is it with all these groomers! We’re not covered in hair, we just need a trim!” Everybody looks at Tana, who’s still holding the umbrella high above her head so Frisk can’t reach it.

“Let’s just ask somebody for directions already!” The older sister sighs, trying hard not to look desperate in her attempts to get out of the god-forsaken rain. If Tana hadn’t said no to Papyrus’ offer on giving them a ride they wouldn’t even _be_ walking in the rain. _Which means it’s her fault that I’m soaking,_ Frisk muses bitterly.

“But I want to stay out for as long as possible and discover the town! Besides, I like hearing the rain hit the pavement–“

“Oh yeah? Then _you_ walk without an umbrella then!”

“No, it’s mine!”

“Ay, _femminucce_! Can you stop behaving like little children? We are in public.”

The splashing of water as they walk through puddles is drowned out by the city noise. Everybody’s so busy, hurrying along without looking twice. Frisk guesses that word of the upcoming gang war has reached their ears as well, and can’t help but feel sympathetic with these monsters who are getting chased out of their hometown. Before they were locked Underground, this _was_ their turf after all. Mages forced them to leave, and now Emmanuel is trying to do the same thing. Only this time there’s no ‘sealing them underground for eternity’. There’s one option that he’ll settle on and that’s eradicating all of monster kind.

Frisk is ripped out of her thoughts when Tana points to a barbershop on the other side of the street, doing a small skip of contentment.

“That looks promising!”

“And expensive…” Frisk mutters under her breath at the sight of the newly renovated insides and the giant fish tank in the middle of the space. When they walk in they’re met with a desk designed as a half circle with a smiling woman behind it. Her hair is pulled up by pearl-studded bobby pins and extravagant braids entangled into a bun. With her subtle – yet beautiful – makeup look enclosed by two strands of hair on either side, Frisk can’t help but acknowledge what a beauty the youthful woman in front of her is. In comparison to her teeth, the pearls aren’t white at all, not to say blinding. She lets her gaze wander across her exposed mocha skin, enchanted by its soft look. Luckily, the woman is too caught up in her conversation with Tana to notice her.

“So can we get an appointment?” The younger sister automatically takes the word, as she’s usually the one to take charge if Frisk doesn’t seem like she wants to.

“Madam, I’m terribly sorry but we’re all booked up for today. If you’d like I can book you for next week.” Tana laughs at the obvious joke. Neither of them are used to rejections, making this quite cute. Caleb steps forward before putting his hands demonstratively on the desk.

_Oh no this is going to go over badly._

Sensing the trouble brewing, Frisk backs outside of the salon. It’s not long before Papyrus picks up his phone with an energetic voice, forcing her to lower the volume by a lot.

“IT IS THE _GREAT_ PAPYRUS SPEAKING!”

“Hi Papyrus, it’s Frisk.” She glances inside the windows, trying to analyze how angry Caleb is getting. “Uh, can you call this salon I’m at and tell them to give us two appointments immediately? Caleb is about to tear this entire building down if not.”

He laughs.

“OF COURSE I CAN LITTLE HUMAN. SEND ME THE NUMBER. BUT, UH, I’M KIND OF BUSY AT THE MOMENT, SO IF YOU COULD MAKE IT QUICK IT WOULD BE MOST APPRECIATED.”

There’s the sound of metal against bones, and then Frisk hears a harmonious robot voice call his name. Can a robotic voice even _be_ harmonious? Apparently.

“Yup. I’m sending it now. Thanks a lot Papyrus, you’re better than great. My hair has been _killing_ me since–“

_Since Adrian tortured me._

She gulps nervously.

“since I went out to look for my sister. I owe you one! Talk to you later.”

“BYE-BYE PHONE-CALLING HUMAN. AND DON’T FORGET TO WEAR THE HATS I GAVE YOU.”

As if resulted by the snap of a finger, a cold hand grips her heart at the sudden memory but she’s quick to repress it before it causes a panic-attack. Her breath is fastening, although she tries to force it steady. This is _so_ not the place for this, she realizes, pointedly ignoring her teary eyes. It’s as if she’s been standing under a tree in rain for too long, and now the water has made it down to the lowest branches, soaking her in desperate fear instead of water. The memories are pouring in, pounding in her head, clutching at her chest. Why here of all possible places? Why now? Couldn’t this wait until she was back at her room, all alone? As it turns out, no it couldn’t.

She clenches her hands in defiance, determined not to break down right there on the busy street. Holding her breath to stop hyperventilating, she focuses on the rain dripping down from the sky.

_I hate this._

It’s a weak attempt to forget the pressuring memories, but she’s not stopping for even a second.

_Just hold your breath and study the rain. Imagine how much you hate it. You can go inside when you’re calm and collected, but that means you have to concentrate. Fuck those raindrops, soaking your clothes. Fuck those puddles, splashing dirty water on your shoes._

_Fuck this method, it isn’t working._

She’s about to sink to the ground when something sparks inside her. A small fire, spreading through her blood. Suddenly it’s not so hard to concentrate on the rain. She remembers how it felt when Sans caught her mouth with his. Would she hate the weather just as much if he was here? Or would she be able to enjoy it?

Her breath hitches for a moment, but this time she’s quick to control it. She swallows her sob as the fire travels with her blood from the top of her head to the outermost tips of her toes. Determined not to fall victim to some memories, she smiles faintly to reassure herself.

_I can do it. If only for now, I’ll be happy. When Sans comes back, we’ll work it out. I know I can do it._

The door behind her opens with the sound of a bell.

“Hey, they made room for us in their calendar. Do you want the hot one or the chatty one?” Frisk turns around to meet her sister, holding in a sigh.

“The hot one.”

“I _knew_ you’d say that! You pathological flirt, you.” She teases, linking arms as they walk to their chairs.

 

* * *

 

“Actually, I think I like you better with your short hair.” Tana muses out loud, running her fingers through her sister’s soft locks. Both Emilia and Caleb have to agree with smiles on their faces when Frisk looks for their approval.

“Very beautiful. Now it will not get in the way.” Emilia contributes. Frisk can’t help but nod. It’s true, that was one of the biggest irritations of her old hair. When it’s this shoulder-length it shouldn’t be as hard to deal with every day. Hair clips and bobby pins should do the job just fine.

The siblings exchange evaluating looks as they decide whether or not their hair stylists did good. Coming to a conclusion, they both smile. Frisk decides to push her luck a bit.

“I’m still standing by my opinion that you need to get bangs.” Tana scoffs. “No, I’m serious! You’d look amazing.” The younger woman quickly pulls one of the hats that Papyrus lend them.

“Mhmm. That’s just because you want to be the pretty sibling again, and you’re trying to sabotage my appearance.” She raises a brow as if daring Frisk to contradict her. Frisk returns the favor.

“I’ve always been the pretty sibling. I’m just being generous. After all these years I think it’s finally your turn.”

“Oh, please. _I’m_ the one with the good looks _and_ the big brain. You’re just my sidekick.”

“Then how come everyone always flirts back when I put on my charming attitude? And please explain how I’ve had more boyfriends than you. Like, don’t even get me _started_ on my girlfriends–”

“Okay fine! You’ve had more relationships than I have, but coaches don’t play.”

“That doesn’t even make sense.”

Caleb rolls his eyes, walking over to the woman with the pearly accessories at the counter to pay. To pay for all the troubles the salon had to go through with cancelling clients and speaking with the guy they have to pay their protection fees to, Frisk convinced Caleb earlier to go about 100G higher than the normal price. It’s not like they can’t afford it, with their father being rich enough to buy coffee for an even higher price than that. Gourmet coffee. Who would’ve thought.

The sisters get up from their respective chairs to wait for Caleb outside. On the way out Frisk is quick to grab the umbrella before Tana, which almost results in a small fight. They’re stopped by a passing man when he bumps into Frisk by accident. It sends her scrambling down, as Frisk is a whole head shorter than the passerby.

“Ow!” She exclaims, painfully aware of where she’s landed. Right in the middle of a puddle.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” The man apologizes, quick to help Frisk back on her feet. The fabric of her new suit from Sans is completely soaked and dirty, probably ruined beyond repair. Tana is by Frisk’s side in an instant, baring her teeth in anger.

“Watch it, dude! Maybe try using your brain before you barrel down someone else on the street!”

He glances nervously at the hat Tana wears. Even in the grey light of a clouded day, the purple ribbon is hard to mistake. He gulps.

“I-I’m so sorry…” The man stammers. Before he can say anything else, he’s run off to somewhere unknown. Both girls are left gaping in confusion, but Frisk is the first to recover. She pats her suit to confirm that it’s not likely to be repaired.

“Dammit, he ruined my suit! And it was a good one too…” Emilia and Caleb choose that moment to walk outside to join them. At the sight of her previously dry _and_ clean outfit their bodyguards immediately go on alert. Emilia’s hand goes to her side – where she keeps her gun holster – and Caleb searches for any sign of danger as he asks what happened. Even though he learns that it was merely a man that didn’t look where he was headed, the guard doesn’t ease his tense posture.

Frisk and Tana are busy with brainstorming what to do with her clothes, when a woman in her early 20’s walks up to them with a worried look on her face. Frisk signals Caleb to stand down, so he doesn’t accidentally blow the woman’s head off.

“Are you okay? I couldn’t help but overlook what happened. You poor thing, you’re sopping wet!”

Against her ribs, Frisk can feel her heart skip a beat and her breath hitch. Right as she lays eyes on the young woman something pulls at her abdomen and her tongue all but hangs out of her mouth as she drools.

_Damn, she’s hot._

Her bleached hair cascades down her shoulders and all the way to her hips. Frisk takes a moment to appreciate her almost black eyes encapsulated by long, fanning eyelashes. With the woman’s sunkissed skin and blood-red lips, Tana almost has to hold Frisk back before she carelessly starts flirting. Which is weird considering that when she’s in a relationship, or has a fling, she doesn’t look twice at anyone else.

Frisk gives her a sexy smile without Tana’s notice.

“The nerve of some people, right?” Her laugh is inviting. Flirting has always been Frisk’s strong suit. For some time Sans is completely out of her mind, but it doesn’t occur to Frisk that something’s…

Off.

“You know, I live right around the corner if you want a spare set of clothes. You can always come back after you’re done with them…” The woman offers with sparkling eyes. It’s surprisingly hard to say no for a suspicious woman like Frisk, but Caleb clears his throat. It’s true, they do have more important matters to attend to. But can’t that wait for just 10 minutes?

He shakes his head.

“Uh, perhaps some other time.” Frisk answers. She should know better than to mix work with pleasure.

_Sans is the only exception I can make._

Despite looking disappointed, the woman takes rejection rather well. She smiles brightly after giving her a short hug. Although it catches her off-guard Frisk doesn’t intervene when she discreetly places a piece of paper in her chest pocket.

“Maybe we’ll see each other again some other time, then. It was nice meeting you.”

“You too.”

She turns around, but before she can disappear Frisk yells after her. She doesn’t know why, but something about this woman makes her head over heels.

“I didn’t catch your name!”

She looks back with a strange look in her eyes.

“You can call me Mary. I’ll see you around, Frisk.”

 

* * *

 

After their long day the only thing Frisk wants to do is lay down in bed – preferably with Sans – and read a book or watch some Webflex. But despite having an array of movies and series, there isn’t really anything that she wants to watch. She’s staring up at the bed canopy, admiring the swirly carving of the wood while her thoughts are running as wild as gazelles on the savanna.

_What’s going on with me? I saw her for approximately 2 minutes yet I can’t get her out of my mind. I’ve never felt like this before. Even with Sans I tried to stay away, but with her… I just can’t wait to see her again._

At once she slaps herself. This isn’t fair to Sans, not after all they’ve been through. There’s no way that she’ll abandon him for some random chick who just happened to be sexy, charming, caring and-

_Stop it! What the hell is going on? Am I under her spell or something?_

Her fingers nimbly find the piece of paper from their meeting. There’s a phone number scribbled with elegant writing on it. Should she call Mary? Is it really worth it?

It’s hard for her to decide what to do, causing her fingers to linger above her phone. In a matter of seconds she’s unlocked it and typed in the number.

“Should I?” She whispers waiting for the smarter part of her to intervene. Sans’s still out and a distraction wouldn’t hurt…

Right?

Maybe a distraction from all of this gang-stuff is _exactly_ what she needs. Besides, it’s not like she’s not allowed to have friends. Just because Mary gave her number to Frisk doesn’t necessarily mean that she’s hitting on her. _I definitely need something new to happen_ , she inwardly concludes. Her fingers absent-mindedly wrap around a lock of hair, tugging it in thought. Alright. She’ll do it.

“ _SOMEBODY HELP!_ ” Interrupted before calling, she jumps in shock. It came from the entrance hall, she’s pretty sure. There’s only 2 persons – or monsters – able to yell that loud…

Undyne or Papyrus. As she instantly forgets everything about Mary, her phone drops to the floor, shattered. She wastes no time running through the halls and down the stairs, her feet are moving quickly on instinct.

“ _PAPYRUS! WINGDINGS! ANYONE!”_

_Undyne._

A cold hand keeps her heart in a tight grip when she realizes the only reason why she would scream for help in this mansion. It only makes her go faster, heart pounding, adrenaline coursing through her blood. Fear takes her head hostage.

She stops abruptly at the foot of the main stairs in the entrance hall, gasping for air.

_Why did I have to be right?_

At the door Undyne clutches Sans feverishly, who’s dropping dust on the clean carpet floor. The woman’s expression says it all, if Sans’ condition doesn’t. The skeleton is grimacing in pain, on the verge of collapsing because of his injury. His clothes are disheveled, the sparkling diamonds in his eyes gone…

 _This is bad,_ Frisk gapes, _the amount of dust coming from him is life-threatening_! Her heart skips a beat in worry, and for a moment her body doesn’t even know how to react. There’s a desert where her tongue used to be, words fighting to somehow get together to make a full sentence. She mentally slaps herself to kickstart her brain, and it works wonders.

“Sans! Fucking _shit_ , did Los Amparadores do this? Wait, that’s a stupid question – Do you need help?” She gasps, not understanding why she’s getting worried over a wound on a person she hasn’t even known for a week. If it was a Marchetti, she would’ve called their doctor and let them handle the rest, and maybe she’d feel a bit of sympathy for the wounded, but, in comparison to the worry she feels for Sans, it’s nothing at all. The thought appears weird to her.

“Punk, get him to his room, okay? It’s up those stairs and to the left, the door with the sign saying something about picking up his ties. Lay him on the bed and watch over him, I’m gonna go get help!” Frisk’s mind only has a second to worry about the weight of a full-grown monster, but when Undyne hands her Sans he doesn’t weigh much more than his clothes do. The fish runs off with impressive speed, leaving Frisk to haul the skeleton up a flight of stairs and down a long hallway before stopping at a door with a sign saying ‘ _Sans pick up your ties! –Papyrus_ ’. Surely enough, once she opens his door and takes in the room, she discovers a pile of ties laying around, although she doesn’t have half a mind to care about his messy bedroom right now. His unmade bedsheets curl randomly on the bed, but she decides that he won’t need them right now.

_Bad luck that they’re white. Can monster-dust stain?_

Despite his breezy weight it’s a literal burden off her shoulders when she lays him down, wheezing for breath. Chocolate eyes travel over his body, trying to figure out where the injury is through the mess of dust, and settles on a knife graze on his tibia. The slash on his trousers isn’t big at all, and the small cut on his bone isn’t enough to kill anybody – Frisk thinks – so surely this graze isn’t enough to send his body on the edge of dusting? Is it?

Besides that knife slash Frisk can’t find any source of Sans’ condition, which confuses her even more. Should she put pressure on it then? _How does monster injuries even work_ , she wonders, _when I treated Ravens broken wing back at Greenmay City I just corrected the bones and gave him a healing candy, but it isn’t as if I can stuff the dust back into Sans’ bone. What should I do until Undyne gets back with help?_

“s-sweets?” A very low voice, barely a whisper, stammers out. Sans’ eye lights are gone, leaving two pits of black, but Frisk still senses his gaze on her when she bolts to his side.

“Sans? Thank goodness you’re still conscious, I was worried that you might be– Uh, that you might be gone, y’know?” She says quickly, grabbing his hand in a show of support.

_Why do I even care? He’s from a mafia. This isn’t the first time he’s been injured, and it won’t be the last._

“rest… ya should be restin’ right now.” He scolds, but Frisk ignores it for the sake of the moment.

“Undyne went to get help, what should I do? Do I need to put pressure on the wound or–“

“nah. i’ll be f-“

He hisses painfully, causing Frisk to jolt in fear and look at the door, begging for help from anyone who might be able to give it. She’s clueless –  maybe if she read that book about souls from Mr. Baklavas she’d know what to do – but the woman really has no idea of how to treat monsters. It wasn’t needed back at Greenmay City, except that one time with Raven, and even then the injury was pretty basic. _Why is he dusting this much from such a small graze? Poison?_

“Okay, new rule: don’t. Talk. Got it?” Sans makes a move to answer, but Frisk is faster. “Rhetorical question. Just do as I tell you, please. I know it’s hard for someone like you to take orders from somebody else, but this is your life on the line so suck it up!”

The motion of nodding causes several pieces of his jaw to disappear – which almost results in Frisk running out of the door to get a damn healer herself – however she sees it as a win that she got him to stop talking. He actually listens to her.

When Undyne and a bat-like creature with leathery cobalt skin and a plain three-piece suit breaks down the door, they find Frisk sitting on the floor beside the bed, grasping Sans’ hand as if it, too, will disappear. What they _don’t_ find is a discouraged or bewildered human. Instead of freaking out, Frisk has done her best to seem put-together even though her heart is beating faster every second. That’s no easy feat.

“JUST STUFF THESE DOWN HIS THROAT- ERR, I MEAN HIS MAGICAL BLACK HOLE IN THE BACK OF HIS MOUTH!” Undyne exclaims, throwing a bag of healing candies to Frisk who quickly pours them all in between Sans’ teeth. The bats enormous wings almost knock down the science project on a bedside lamp in his haste, (why would Sans even put it there?), but at the last second the creature stops. Frisk moves away a bit so that the doctor can have some space, although it doesn’t even glance in her direction. _That’s odd_ , she notes, _either they’re really concentrated or they just don’t like me._

The shrieks coming from the monster can’t qualify as a voice, in Frisk’s opinion, but she somehow manages to understand it anyway.

“The cut on his tibia is critical, Ms. Undyne. We need Lady Dreemurr to come over as fast as possible, or we might risk losing him. His HP is down to 0.1/1, a rather disturbing number.”

_HP? Is that some kind of medical term that I don’t know of or something? But if I don’t know it, then how would Undyne? Is it a monster thing?_

“I’ve _already_ called her _and_ Papyrus! They're all gone! Toriel can only be here in 10 minutes… C-can he last that long?”

“We have to hope so. If we are lucky then the healing magic in the candy will help him last for so long.”

Frisk tunes out their conversation after that. She gazes at the skeleton whom she had no idea would ever mean so much to her as he does now. Is it just her fate to have everything she cares about disappear? God, she hopes not. She already misses the way he gazes at her, and the sound of his voice, and his awful jokes…The healing candies _have_ to work. They worked on her, so they have to work on him too – she doesn’t even know what she would do if he went and got himself killed–

…

…

……

………

As the last dust from his body settles on the white linen and angry tears run down her cheeks, she can’t help but wonder why the world always kills the people she likes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And I oooooop...  
> Don't pay me any mind. Just here to ruin your good day...


End file.
